


I’ll Take That in Green, Please

by Regina_Writes



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, Dom/sub Undertones, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Mild Painplay, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Quidditch, Room of Requirement, Room of Requirement Shenanigans, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-19 23:48:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19366129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regina_Writes/pseuds/Regina_Writes
Summary: Bitty transfers to hogwarts going into his sixth year. Luckily, he’s sorted into Slytherin, the house that just so happens to contain two of the most gorgeous boys he’s ever seen in his entire life.What follows is: quidditch, feelings, and more drama than he reasonably expected. Luckily, he can handle it all.





	1. Bitty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KARIN848](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KARIN848/gifts).



It hadn’t been a hard choice on his parents part. 

A position had opened up at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: the coach of the Gryffindor quidditch team was retiring. 

His mama sells charms over the internet (a constant proponent of Minister Granger-Weasley’s work to globally legalize the use of muggle technology by wizards), so it didn’t much matter where she lived, she could work anywhere. She had supported his dad all the way through.

However, the application came and went and his parents had decided to wait until it was final before telling him. He only had two years of school left before graduating; they didn’t want to upset him if they didn’t even know for sure they would be moving. Eric would argue that being asked to uproot his life on an even shorter notice was actually worse, but it’s a moot point.

His dad got the position.

So they made arrangements; his parents found a nice little cottage near Hogsmeade, where his dad could easily floo to work every day.

His momma refused to live “in a castle full of children, one is quite enough, thank you.”

Eric said goodbye to the few friends he had at Livermorny, letting them know that, actually, this is their last year together, sorry.

The bonds he had were never particularly strong though, he never seemed to be able to find his niche, caught between being a quidditch player and a gay man, two very seperate groups. At least to his knowledge.

—-

He was warned that on his first day of hogwarts he would have to partake in the sorting ceremony along with all the first years. That didn’t make it any less strange to tower over a sea of children as he listened to a professor prepare them for the ceremony to come. He isn’t used to being taller than those around him.

The professor ushers the first years into the hall, but stops him short before he can follow.

“We don’t want this to be too strange for you,” she says reassuringly, “I just wanted to give you the summary with the rest of the newcomers, we’ll introduce you with your father before the sorting. Why don’t you wait in the wings?”

He nods, following the first years for a second before breaking away to stand awkwardly in the corner of the grand hall. The kids file up to the stage, where a professor is carrying up a dusty old hat and wooden stool. Nothing too interesting is happening yet, so he lets his eyes wander.

The tables are probably sorted by house, though he doesn’t know which, the professor didn’t mention which color tie corresponded with which house. The closest table to him is all wearing green ties, and he can’t help but try to think of which color tie would suit him best.

A booming voice fills the hall, startling him out of his machinations. He searches around for it and eventually settles on the hat, which seems to be speaking in rhymes. Livermorny’s sorting was not nearly this… eccentric. 

The hat explains the sorting process and the virtues of each house, but still refrains from commenting on which color tie corresponds to which.

He scrutinizes the table closest to him, trying to see if he can parse out what traits it’s occupants are exhibiting… and makes eye contact with someone who has the most gorgeous eyes he has ever seen in his life. He can’t quite tell from this distance if they’re blue or green, but he can tell that their owner is now smiling at him. He’s been staring. He flushes, and his eyes skitter nervously away from the stranger’s, but he forces himself to pry them back to smile back at him.

The stranger smiles wider, and the guy sitting next to him turns curiously to look back at Eric as well. He knows he probably flushes harder at that, because—god—this new stranger has broad shoulders, a strong jaw, pale blue eyes and dark brown hair. Eric kind of wants to melt, already mentally calculating his chances of getting himself in whatever goddamn house those two are in.

He offers the new stranger a quick little smile instead, peeling his eyes away quickly so he isn’t staring unduly long.

He casts around for something interesting to look at for a moment before remembering there’s a whole ceremony going on, one that could probably provide him some insight into which house those two are in.

There are only three first years left, and he watches the sorting with rapt attention hoping one of them will get sorted into the green tie table so he can beg the hat to put him in that house. 

But the first to be called is Ravenclaw: the blue tie table, and the next is Gryffindor: orange. Despite all the finger crossing he’s doing, the final is also sorted into Gryffindor. The first years are all sorted.

The professor that gave them their miniature orientation rises from her place at the front table, waiting for the applause to die down before introducing his father as the new Gryffindor quidditch coach. The Orange table wolf whistles and cheers at that, and to his surprise, some of the green table boos and hisses. The houses must be rivals.

The professor makes a quelling motion with her hands, and the ruckus dies down.

“Now as you know,” she says, “transfer students are very uncommon here at hogwarts, but they are just as much a student as any of you, so they deserve a sorting just the same.”

Eric takes that as his cue to inch further up towards the stage, and he can feel the gaze of the blond stranger following his progress, which he purposely ignores.

The woman that had been announcing the first years beckons him up the steps, then clears her throat and announces “Eric Bittle” in a booming voice, which is wholly unlike her stature.

The hall begins to clap, and Eric walks up onto the stage to firmly plant the dusty old hat on his head.

He immediately has to stifle the urge to sneeze.

“Hmm.” Comes a voice in his head, he nearly jumps in his seat: unsure of what he expected. “You’re ambitious, but kind; I see. You can hold a grudge, but you’re also loyal to a fault. Hmm indeed.”

He racks his brain for the earlier descriptions the hat gave, then inquires.

“I’m guessing it’s between Slytherin and Hufflepuff?”

“Cunning too.”

Bitty can feel his eyes sliding over to the green table, even though they’re covered and he can’t really see it. Those were the two houses that weren’t called, so one of them must be that table.

“Which one—“

“SLYTHERIN” the hat yells, before he can even finish his thought. Eric really does jolt in his seat this time; taken aback as he is.

He carefully removes the hat from his head, peering hopefully over at the green table. They’re cheering for him, and some seem to be beckoning him over. 

He sighs in relief, smiling as he steps down the stage and towards the table. He had thought, for a moment, that his scheming to get in the same house as those two had tipped the scales towards ambition in the hats eyes. But either that tipping worked in his favor, or the hat had been willing to play matchmaker. 

Before he can sit down in the nearest open seat, he hears someone call out a “hey.”

He turns, and it’s the stranger, gesturing for him to sit next to him and his beautiful, broad shouldered friend. The blushing is back, but Eric musters up the courage to sit next to them.

“Hey,” He says again, “glad to have you join us. I was wondering who you were. Zimms here thought you’d be a Hufflepuff though.” He throws his thumb back to gesture at his friend, who seems to begrudgingly accept the statement as truth.

Eric already has approximately fifty questions, but he just blurts out “I almost was” before the stranger can keep on talking.

“Oh! Yeah, the hat did take a minute to sort you,” Kent says, “did it say those were the houses it came down to?”

“Not in so many words, but yes.”

“It can be cryptic sometimes,” Zimms says. It’s the first time Eric has heard him speak, his voice is soft, but clearly audible.

“Did it give you a choice too?” Eric asks.

“Yes,” Zimms says.

“What between?”

Kent interjects: “he told me the hat said something poetic like: You have so many thoughts swirling in your head about the future: ambitious, gleaming thoughts. But you’re also just thinking a lot in general.” 

He nods in assent, so Eric assumes the statement is relatively accurate.

“Then it asked me what my favorite color was, green or blue.” Zimms eyes flick to his friend’s, just for a moment, but noticeably so. “I never decided, the sorting hat just yelled out slytherin all of the sudden.”

Eric can’t blame him for not being able to choose, up close he can clearly see Kent’s eyes, and theyre both colors. A pale blue ring surrounding light green, bursting out from his iris. Even though he technically ended up in the green house, he hadn’t had to choose, Eric knows he really got both.

The corners of the eyes he’s staring at crinkle up, and Eric looks away before it gets weird. “You know, sorting goes in alphabetical order,” he says conspiratorially, “I got sorted into slytherin first— i’m still convinced I was the tiebreaker.”

Zimms snorts derisivley. “We just sat next to each other on the train. It’s not like we were already best friends at that point.”

Personally Eric thinks that isn’t the most convincing argument he’s ever heard, but he spares Zimms nonetheless.

“So what about you, Kent. What did the sorting hat say to you?”

“Eh; I didnt get a choice, really, just the hat’s internal monologue. Something along the lines of “you’re courageous, but you're also very ambitious. I think Slytherin would serve you much better though.” And that was it, I got sorted into Slutheryn.”

“Pardon me?”

Zimms gives a deep sigh.

“Veronica Krum called us Slutheryin in 5th year and Kent still hasn’t really let it go”

“It was fucking hilarious.” he says. “I got her back though, her nickname is Krummy forever now.”

“Oh, I’m Kent, by the way,” he asserts, a bit too late for Eric’s southern sensibilities, though he supposes he also has yet to introduce himself. “You can call me Parse though.”

“Odd names.” Bitty says, referring to both his and his friends.

“They’re quidditch nicknames.”

Eric knows he visibly perks up at that, and Kent gives him an assessing once over.

“You a quidditch player?”

Bitty nods.

“What did you say your name was again?”

“Eric Bittle.”

“Bitty.” Kent replies, quick as a whiplash. Then smiles, seemingly satisfied with himself.

“Excuse me?” Eric asks.

“He’s always got to be the first to give out nicknames,” Zimms says, “my actual name is Jack, by the way.”

Kent gasps in mock outrage, hand over heart.

“I thought you liked my nicknames Zimmy?”

“No.” Jack replies.

“C’mon, honey. Sugar. Dumpling.”

“Are you hungry or something?” Jack asks.

“How can I not be when I’m looking at a snack like you.”

Jack sighs, and Eric snorts a laugh at their antics.

“Y’all are ridiculous.”

“Oh,” Kent says, clearly taken aback, “you’re southern.”

“You didn’t notice from all the excuse and pardon me’s?” Jack asks incredulously.

“You know I have attention issues.” Kent whines.

“It’s called ADHD. Did you take your potions his morning?”

Kent thinks on it for a moment. “Yeah.” he concludes. “I did.”

Jack nods, seemingly satisfied.

Suddenly Bitty notices that the trays in front of them are full of food, and probably have been for some time, if the way the people around them are digging in is any indication.

Kent notices his line of sight and nods knowingly.

“Seems we got a little bit distracted, we should probably eat now.”

“Who’d have thunk it, Kent Parson, keeping us organized and on track.” Jack says, with some irony.

“Shut up,” Kent scoffs, cuffing him over the head, “I keep the team on track all the time and you know it.”

“That’s quidditch,” Jack responds, calmly filling his plate, “It’s your special interest, thats a whole other beast.”

Although the antics of the ridiculously attractive boys sitting next to him are very amusing, Bitty decides that food takes priority, and he fills his plate up.

His salivary glands open like floodgates when he brings the bite up to his mouth, and the first taste is downright heavenly.

“Mmph!” he says, pleasantly surprised. 

Jack shoots him an amused look.

He chews and swallows. 

“My word that’s good, who made it? Where can I get the recepie?”

“You cook?” Kent asks, at the same time as Jack says “house elves.”

“Y’all are lucky,” BItty says, refocusing on his food, “the things they serve at Livermorny aren’t half as good as this.”

Then he chows back down, resolving to find some way to squeeze some recepies out of the house elves before thanksgiving.


	2. Kent

When he saw the boy that had scrutinized him for about two minutes straight and then blushed upon discovery get sorted into Slytherin of all houses—well—it had been a surprise, to say the least. But he definitely wasn’t complaining, the guy was cute—and according to Professor Wright, he was only a year below them.

Not that Kent is really considering it, he’s just eye candy. The guy is way too shy for his tastes anyways.

Or at least, that’s what he thought.

\-----

As it turns out, it might be that Kent just wasn’t letting Bitty get a word in edgewise, because once he warms up to them—well. He’s vibrant and loud, thoughtlessly confident, and in possession of a wide assortment of talents.

\-----

“Where’s the kitchen?” 

The question comes in the midst of the tour Kent is tagging along for. Jack has already sent the first years to bed, his duty as a perfect completed. It’s almost ten, so they can’t leave the dormitory, but Bitty had wanted a better look at the common area.

“By Hufflepuff’s dorms.” Kent replies.

“No, no. I mean our kitchen.”

“We don’t have one.”

Bitty gapes. “Not even a microwave?” He sounds a little hysterical. “A cabinet? A fridge? Nothing?”

“Sorry,” Jack winces.

“Am I just supposed to let myself get rusty? I have a vlog.”

“A what?” Jack asks.

“Don’t mind him,” Kent says, “he’s old blood, he doesn’t know a lot about muggle technology. What are you even going to use to shoot your vlog though? Pretty much anything with a screen is contraband.”

Bitty eyes Jack warily, and Kent realizes his status as a perfect probably isn’t setting Bitty at ease.

“He mostly stumbled onto the position,” Kent says, “he lets most things slide as long as they aren’t dangerous or stupid.”

“The slytherin perfect kind of has to be flexible.” Jack says.

He doesn’t elaborate, but Bitty nods like he gets the point. The hat did say slytherin was “willing to use any means to achieve their ambitions.” Kent guesses that’s pretty self explanatory.

Bitty nods, peeking around the room. “Well, phones aren’t contraband for teachers.” He slides a phone out of his pocket, wiggling it outside for a second before shoving it back down. “Besides, robe pockets are so big; it’s hard to notice when your son slips things in and out of them.”

He smiles then, all impish innocence.

Kent is a little in love.

Instead of declaring as much he just decides to ask: “how are you going to charge it, or like, use wifi?”

“Magic.” Bitty says. Though unspoken, the “duh” is heavily implied.

“Okay,” He says, “alright, all of that was textbook slytherin right there. To the point where I question how you almost got put into Hufflepuff.”

Jack just looks impressed, probably silently agreeing with Kent.

“I’m also very patient, which is apparently a Hufflepuff trait.” He says it with a faux air of haughtiness around him, and Kent snorts.

“You’re going to need that virtue if you plan on spending any measure of time with this one.” Jack points his thumb at Kent, and he gasps in mock outrage.

“How dare you Jackie? I’ll have you know that countless sources attest that loving me is effortless.”

“Countless, eh?” Jack chirps.

“Countless.” Kent drawls, smirking at him.

“So,” Bitty says, shaking his head and smiling at the two of them, “how does one gain access to the kitchens?”

There’s a beat of contemplative silence.

“I don’t… actually know.” Kent looks to Jack for guidance, but he just shrugs in return.

“All I know about the kitchens is that they’re near the Hufflepuff dormitories.” Kent says, shrugging. “You might have chosen the wrong house.”

“I don’t think I did.” Bitty says, smiling just a little bit.

“True.” Kent agrees. “You are pretty crafty. But that just means you should be able to find a hufflepuff that knows how to get in.”

Bitty sighs. “I should, I just wish curfew wasn’t so early so I could get about doin’ that right now.”

“When was curfew at Ilvermorny?” Jack asks curiously.

“Midnight for fourth year and older, ten for the younger ones. But I had access to the kitchen at all hours, seeing as each of the houses had a mini one in the common area. I need a medium for my stress baking... How strict is the curfew?”

“Pretty strict.” Jack responds. “Unless you have a good reason for being out.”

Bitty gets a look on his face like he’s trying to figure out how to sell stress baking as an important reason to be out past curfew.

Kent almost laughs at that, but he stifles it.

“Speaking of which, we should probably be getting to bed right now.” Jack says.

“But it’s barely past ten. Do we have to be in bed at curfew too?”.

“No, Jack is just on real grandpa hours.”

“I’m healthy.” Jack sniffs. “Ten is a reasonable, healthy bedtime.”

“For grandpas.” Kent finishes.

\-----  
Classes begin the next day, and Kent slogs through them with the relative enthusiasm one should expect from an ADHD kid with no intention of pursuing a career in magic. Kent has always known he wanted to play professional quidditch when he graduated, and school doesn’t matter to him too much.

He knows he has to do well to continue playing sports, and he knows quidditch is dangerous, so it’s good to have a backup just in case. For those reasons he begrudgingly applies himself to his schoolwork, but it rarely holds his attention.

He is greeted by people throughout the day, and he never fails to find someone to sit next to. Be it a teammate, a competitor, or just a random person who knows who he is.

He and Jack co-captain the Slytherin team, the same team that won the inter house championship last year. He had already been popular before, but as the more social of the co-captains, this year he is bound to be especially so.

He doesn’t mind it though, the idle chatter is nice.

Farmer: a fifth year and the Gryffindor team’s best beater beckons him over to her table in Arithmancy, and he obediently goes to sit next to her.

“So,” she says, without preamble, “did you and Jack give the new guy a tour yesterday? What’s he like?”

“Hi Farms,” Kent says dryly, “nice to see you too. My summer was fine, thank you.”

Farmer waves his sarcasm away. “Clock is ticking. I hear this professor is a stickler for timeliness.”

“Yes, we gave him the tour. He’s nice. Why do you ask?”

“My boyfriend was talking to him earlier. He seems nice enough, but you never know with Slytherins.”

“Thanks.” Kent says, his tone fully evaporated at this point. 

“You know what I mean,” Farmer says, “Chowder is very trusting, I have to look out for him.”

“The house shade was unnecessary though. Bitty was probably just trying to find someone that knows how to get into the kitchens.”

“Oh, he’s a quidditch player then?” Farmer asks, likely noticing the nickname.

“So he says.”

“Crushing him will be fun.”

The professor begins to talk before Kent can reply to that. Instead he makes sure she’s looking before he rolls his eyes very deliberately. She just smirks back.  
—-

When he finally arrives back at the dormitories he is exhausted. 

Jack is on the couch, reading something with a boring looking cover, as usual, and Kent quickly checks the common room for other students. He finds none and sighs in relief. 

He chucks his bag to the floor, where it skids to a stop by Jack’s feet, and then climbs into his lap.

Jack doesn’t look up from his book.

“I’m reading.”

Kent knows the name of this game well. They only started this—whatever they have—last year, and they rarely get to actually do anything. But they fit together so well these things come instinctively.

Kent slides his hand against Jack’s waist, and while he still hasn’t looked up from his book, he can feel him tensing. Kent smiles. He doesn’t disturb Jack’s eye line, doesn’t impede his ability to look at his book, because that would be cheating, even if they never explicitly discussed rules. Or acknowledged that a game exists.

Instead, he curls into Jack’s right side, and blows a little air into the shell of his ear. Jack wrinkles his nose a little, and Kent laughs, still close enough that Jack can probably feel it on his neck.

Kent wants to play the game longer, to drag it out and take his time, but they could be caught at any moment, and it’s a bit too early to be able to safely sneak off to actually do anything. 

So he sets his teeth gently against Jack’s neck for a second, feels the little involuntary shudder he gives, and then sucks on the skin over Jack’s jugular as much as possible without leaving a noticeable hickey. Jack’s head falls back instinctively, further baring his neck, and Kent notes his victory, Jack’s gaze no longer on the page.

He pulls away and grins at Jack.

“That was a dirty trick.”

“I’m a dirty man.” Kent says, all innocence.

Jack rolls his eyes at him, then glances around the room. His eyes land back on Kent’s mouth, and he takes the hint easily, leaning in to kiss Jack. 

He cuts it off a minute or so later, before Jack can start sucking on his tongue. If they get to that stage Kent definitely wouldn’t notice if anyone came in to the common area. 

The two of them haven’t even said what they are yet, really. They definitely aren’t ready to explain what they’re doing to some first year.

Instead Kent opts for idle chatter, pressing himself into Jack, who wraps an arm around him without batting an eye. He knows they’re not exactly draped over each other in the most platonic manner at the moment, but people will just have to write it off as quidditch friendliness.

“I missed you over the summer.”

“We saw each other all the time.” Jack replies. “We floo called every day.”

“It’s not the same,” Kent pouts, “we could only floo from areas with fireplaces, most of the time we had to keep it PG. I missed this.”

“Me too.” Jack says, and it’s soft, but sincere.

Kent smiles. He knows that was big for Jack, so he decides to give him his peace and quiet as a while to reward him.

He flicks his wand out of his pocket and quietly summons a book to himself, unwilling to pry himself out of Jack’s embrace.

 

——

Bitty apparently made friends with a hufflepuff, if the pie he brings to the dorms at exactly nine fifty five at night is any indication.

“Impressive,” Kent says, straightening up from where he’s slumped looped under Jack’s arm and putting his book on quidditch strategy down, “it took less than a day for you to worm your way into the kitchens.” He sniffs the air, mouth already watering. “does it taste as good as it smells?”

“Why don’t you come on over here and find out?” Bitty says, setting the pie down and apparating a fork with a neat little spell. He holds it out towards Kent, who approaches in a manner not unlike a house cat scoping out the food it’s about to step on.

“What kind of pie is this?” Kent asks, accepting the fork from Bitty.

“Peach.” Bitty responds.

“Yes, darling?” Kent says.

Bitty laughs, but Kent doesn’t miss the way the tips of his ears turn red.

“I’m from Georgia, it’s an homage to my home state.”

Kent takes a bite and moans shamelessly.

“This is the best fucking homage I’ve ever tasted in my life. Jack, get your shapely ass over here.”

Jack groans from his place on the couch.

“Kenny, you know quidditch starts up soon.”

“Quidditch my slightly less shapely ass, this pie takes precedence.”

“Well, if it’s making you admit the downfalls of your ass, I’ve got to taste it.” Jack retorts dryly. But he’s also getting up from the couch, so Kent counts it as a win.

Kent lifts a bite up to him , shielding it with his hand under his fork. Jack rolls his eyes, but he eats off the fork nonetheless. Then his eyes widen, flitting to Bitty.

Bitty’s watching them, his expression openly curious. He’s probably waiting for Jack’s verdict.

“...This is really good.” Jack admits, finally.

Kent grins. “From him that’s practically the equivalent of calling a pep squad to cheer your praises.” He winks, and Bitty flushes, ostensibly pleased with their reactions.

Jack just hip checks him out of the way to eat more pie, the whore.

“So,” Bitty says, “I couldn’t help but notice that y’all are talking about the quidditch team quite a bit. I’ve been meaning to ask when tryouts are, seeing as I intend to play with y’all.”

“Next week,” Kent says, “we want to give everyone a little breather, but we play Gryffindor in November, so we need some practice time before facing Krummy and her lot.”

Jack finishes his bite before joining the conversation, which is a testament to how good the pie is. Usually quidditch is one of the only things he’ll willingly talk about.

“What position do you play?” He asks.

“Seeker.” Bitty says, more serious than Kent thinks he’s ever seen him.

Kent sizes him up. It makes sense, he’s small, and likely nimble. He has a sharp gaze and Kent doesn’t doubt his ability to use it.

“I guess we’ll see if you’re a good one in a week.” Kent says.

He mentally hits himself a little once the words are out, feeling as though they’re too rude for the likes of Bitty. The sweet Georgia peach that has doe eyes and the best pie Kent’s ever tasted.

But Bitty just smiles, his grin surprisingly shark toothed.

“I guess we will.”


	3. Jack

The day of quidditch tryouts comes after one of the most hectic first weeks Jack has ever experienced. It probably doesn’t help that he and Kent started hooking up last year, so he often finds himself with a lap full of co-captain.

Not that he’s complaining. 

He expected as much, Kent has always been a touchy feely person.

What he didn’t expect was a shy sixth year transfer student. What he expected even less was for that shy transfer student to actually just be adjusting, or for it to only take about a day for him to adjust, or for him to be devious, with a knack for producing pies out of thin air.

Kent is already besotted with said transfer student, which sometimes means Jack gets more time to study. 

Jack thinks he should probably be a bit more jealous about the obvious liking Kent has taken to Bitty, but he can’t blame him, the guy is pretty great. Even if he seems determined to ruin Jack’s diet.

By the time tryouts roll around he’s itching to see whether Bitty’s any good or not.

He doesn’t want to write the guy off, he definitely has an air of confidence when it comes to the sport— but Jack has never seen him so much as look at a broomstick, so he honestly has no clue how this will go.

When Bitty takes to the quidditch field with the calm air of one who owns it, twirling his broomstick in a neat flourish before letting it float up to an appropriate level to mount, Jack is reminded of the fact that Bitty’s father is a quidditch coach. He probably got sat on a broomstick the moment he could balance, just like Jack did.

He turns to Kent to see if he’s watching, and he is, his eyes glued to Bitty’s form, scrutinizing the easy way he sits on the broom like he’s meant to be there. It seems Jack isn’t the only one who’s eager to see how Bitty does.

Jack clears his throat and claps his hands together, drawing the attention of the gathered students. The turnout is pretty good, and Jack can spot some new faces along with the returning members trying out. 

Since he and Kent are co-captains, they don’t have to try out again, which leaves them with 5 positions to fill. One chaser, two beaters, a keeper, and a seeker.

There stand eleven hopefuls in front of him. He divides them by the positions they’re trying out for: three chasers, three beaters, three seekers, two keepers.

Bitty seems undeterred by the competition, but neither does Richard Dunn, the previous years seeker. Privately, Jack hopes Bitty can beat him out.

Jack has a strong dislike for the guy, he’s blatantly disrespectful and entitled, and he acts like a wannabe death eater. 

His first year on the team, Kent had tried to give him a nickname: Dunzo. But he’d just turned his nose up at the suggestion, saying that nicknames were for muggles. Then he’d given Kent a once over and said “you’re only half soiled, act like it.”

Kent had waited for Dunn to walk imperiously off before turning to Jack and declaring “new nickname; he’s definitely a Dick.”

Jack had snorted a laugh at the time, but Dunn has been a consistent annoyance since. Last year he had campaigned against Kent and him for the position of team captain in the most annoying way possible. When it had been announced that they tied for captain, Dunn had thrown a fit, demanded a rematch, and stormed off.

Jack is honestly surprised he managed to turn up to tryouts and act like his dignity was intact.

But begrudgingly, Jack has to acknowledge that despite being an utter Dick, he’s a good seeker. So, really, hoping for his failure is the logical thing to do.

Kent divides them into two slightly lopsided teams, one with two beaters and one chaser, the other with one beater and two chasers. The seekers get a free for all.

Jack releases the golden snitch, and Bitty intently tracks its movement, even as he’s sitting patiently on his broomstick. The rest of the players are given their equipment and sent off to their places, and Kent calls for the game to begin.

They give the rest of the team a minute to play, and then call for the seekers to head out.

Bitty is off like a rocket as soon as the words fall from Kent’s mouth. Jack has no clue where the snitch is, but Bitty obviously does. Dunn starts, obviously just as surprised as the rest of them at Bitty’s speed. But he doesn’t waste any time chasing after Bitty, tracing his line of sight in a desperate search for the snitch. The third seeker belatedly follows, an obviously disgruntled third year that probably doesn’t have much of a chance of beating the other two.

Jack disregards him until further notice, watching Bitty’s progress. He’s urging his broom forward at breakneck speed, easily outpacing Dunn.

Besides him, he can see Kent’s grip on his clipboard tighten, obviously enthralled by Bitty’s performance so far. 

Bitty’s been beelining across the stadium, easily dodging the chaser that found himself in his path while sticking to it. But he makes a sudden and sharp left, then rises up high into the air. Jack thinks he sees him take his feet out of the stirrups and hook his knees around his broomstick, but he’s not sure why.

That is, of course, until Bitty smoothly executes a one handed barrel roll, reaching out and scooping the golden snitch easily into his other hand as he goes. He rights himself triumphantly.

It all happens so fast Dunn nearly crashes into him, but Bitty seems unfazed. He flies nearer to them, returning to the ground and handing the snitch to Kent. 

Kent takes it, and Jack can practically see his eyes turning into heart shapes. It’s the same look Kent gives him when he scores a particularly nice goal. Jack can’t really fault him for it though, even if he really should. Bitty just caught the snitch less than four minutes after the game started. It’s truly an impressive feat.

Unfortunately, Dunn doesn’t seem to return the sentiment.

“That was a fluke,” he says, without preamble and before even landing his broom, “I demand a rematch.”

Jack opens his mouth to deny the request, but Bitty beats him to it.

“Sure,” He says, “best two out of three could be fun.”

Jack frowns. He’d rather declare Bitty the winner and leave it at that, but Dunn would undeniably throw a hissy fit if Jack didn’t let them rematch now that Bitty’s agreed. He sighs and acquiesces, sending them to the starting line again.

The rest of the players hover uncertainly in the air—they probably have been since Bitty caught the snitch, a move that would normally signify the end of the game. Kent releases the snitch and then sends them back to their marks as well. He calls for the game to start, and Bitty’s off again, Dunn close on his heels. Jack commits himself to paying more attention to the rest of the players now, knowing Kent won’t be able to take his eyes off the seekers if he tries.

From the looks of it, it seems the lineup will be pretty much the same as it was last year, bar the new beater they’re going to need to find to replace the one that graduated last year. He keeps track of goals and which chaser is making them, but it’s clear who their third is going to be. Though the runner up is doing an admirable job, Jack notes this on his own board to keep in mind if they ever need to use him in an emergency. 

The two beaters competing for a place alongside Ransom aren’t really at the same skill level, and not for the first time, Jack wishes the Hufflepuff beater, Holster, was a Slytherin instead.

Unfortunately Holster is a Hufflepuff through and through. But given that he and Ransom are practically fused at the hip when they’re not playing against each other, Jack doesn’t doubt they’ll be playing professional quidditch on the same team.

It’s taking Bitty longer to catch the snitch than it had last time, if Kent’s continued tension by his side is any indication. He forces himself to continue paying attention to the beaters though, and he’s made his decision by the time Kent deflates next to him.

Jack searches the field, and his eyes land on Bitty, triumphantly waving the snitch above his head next to a furious Dunn.

Kent turns to Jack, seeming to guiltily realize that he hasn’t been paying attention to the rest of the game, but Jack just smiles and shakes his head. He waves his clipboard. 

“I’ve got it if you want to call the game.”

“Oh thank god.” Kent sighs, obviously trusting his judgement.

They call an end to the game, and all of the hopefuls fly down to stand in front of them. All, that is, except for Dunn, who throws his helmet on the ground and stalks off the field, broom in tow. He obviously knows he’s been bested. The third seeker seems unsure what to do, twitching as if to follow before settling on staying.

Bitty watches him go as he calmly lands, eyebrow raised.

“What a rude man.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Kent retorts.

Bitty hands him the snitch, and Kent accepts.

Jack clears his throat and readies himself to announce the lineup for the year, congratulating them all for a job well done.

Their third chaser is the same as last year, a fifth year who goes by Whiskey. Their keeper is also the same: Johnson, who seems as unfazed by his current situation as he is by everything else. One of the beaters is Ransom, same as last year, and the other is a newcomer: Althea Colbert. Kent quickly interrupts this announcement to dub her Colby, which she graciously accepts. Finally, Jack announces Bitty as their new seeker. 

He beams, accepting the congratulations of his new teammates, and offering condolences to those who aren’t. 

Kent shoos them off with an order to change, but before Jack can follow, he grabs him by the sleeve.

“Did you watch him at all the second time?”

“No,” Jack says, “I knew you would be, so I didn’t need to.”

“He’s amazing.” He gushes. “Holy shit Jack, that kid is fast.”

“I saw.” Jack replies, somewhat amused at Kent’s enthusiasm.

“Yeah,” Kent says, waving that off, “you saw him when he had the snitch in sight. But the second time Dunn found it first. Bitty outflew him like it was nothing.”

“That is really impressive.” Jack admits. Dunn isn’t exactly slow, he’s outmaneuvered his fair share of rival seekers before. “But your crush is getting a little obvious don’tcha think?”

“Is that what this is?” Kent asks, surprised. Jack had been joking, but Kent is seriously considering it. “Shit I think that is what this is.” He concludes after a moment. Then he seems to remember who he’s talking to.

“Is that okay?” He asks. “I can stop talking about it if you want.”

Jack considers the offer for a second, then shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine.” He says. “I get it.”

“You get it?”

“Yeah, he’s cute.” Jack shrugs.

Kent gasps in mock outrage.

“How dare you imply I’m shallow, it’s not just because he’s cute. He’s also very talented… that’s a trait I tend to like in people.” 

He grins at Jack then, and he can’t help the little answering smile that ticks up the corners of his mouth. 

Kent leans in and kisses it right off.


	4. Bitty

So Bitty might have made a mistake in choosing his house on account of attractive strangers. 

It’s not that he doesn’t belong in Slytherin or that he doesn’t like it in Slytherin. It’s just that, well, the strangers are attractive and nice, and funny, and smart… and totally dating each other.

They haven’t said as much, but if they aren’t Bitty is willing to bet that they will be. Or they should be.

It’s in the glances they throw each other, the way their hands linger when they hand each other things, the way they curl together on the common room couch and barely ever spend time with anyone else. 

Not that he can really blame them for sharing body warmth in the slytherin common room. He had thought that the setup was normal for hogwarts, but one trip with Chowder to the Hufflepuff dormitories confirmed that the coldness of their common room was not common place. 

It apparently has something to do with their position under the lake, but Bitty couldn’t care less. He’s a Georgia boy through and through, not built for cold weather. He makes sure the fireplace is always going when he’s around.

Between his constant shivering in the common room, his admission to the Slytherin Quidditch Team, and his diminutive stature, Jack has started hounding him to eat more protein. He’s mostly sure that it’s joking, but he’s not above sticking his tongue out in protest when he’s in a particularly immature mood. 

Jack seems entirely unfazed though, which Bitty fully blames on Kent.

He could never begrudge Kent for that though, or most anything really.

Because the next time Kent sees Bitty shivering in the common room over his charms textbook he gives a plaintive “c’mon Jack.” 

Bitty glances curiously over at them. Jack is sighing and scooting away from Kent, who pats the space between them in silent invitation. When Bitty doesn't move he amends it to a verbal invitation.

“I know it’s cold down here, I can see you shivering and the sound of your teeth chattering is making it hard to focus on my book.” He waves said book in the air, grinning. “Sit with us.”

So Bitty does. 

It’s nice. He knows he’ll never have either of them, they already have each other. But in moments like these he can almost imagine what it would be like if he did.

——-

About two weeks in, he breaks.

“Is this all there is?”

Jack just gives him a questioning look.

“Are practices only ever going to be stretching and flying?”

“What else would we do?” Jack asks, seeming genuinely bewildered.

They’re walking back from quidditch practice to the dorms, and Jack seems nonplussed at being stopped in his tracks. Kent is just curiously watching this unfold.

“Weight lifting, crunches, sit ups, and sort of muscle training really?”

“Weight lifting?” Jack asks. “Like lifting heavy objects?”

Bitty chokes on a hysterical laugh. “Yes, essentially.”

“Did Ilvermorny have a weight room?” Kent asks.

“Yes,” Bitty says, “because they cared more about the health and wellness of their students than maintaining magical mysticism bullshit.”

Kent whistles lowly. “Wow. Tell us how you really feel Bits.”

“Oh hush, you.” He sighs. “I’m sure y’all can handle it fine because you’re used to it, but I actually did weight training at Ilvermorny and i’d like to not lose all my muscle definition just because the castle has an aesthetic to uphold.”

“You have muscle definition?” Kent asks, perking up. “You’d never know, you’re always too cold to wear casual clothes in the common room.”

Bitty can feel himself flushing a little bit, but tries not to be fazed by Kent’s interest in his body type.

“That’s another thing,” he says, “I understand playing games in your robes, that’s the uniform. But we practice in our robes too, despite the fact that doing anything really strenuous in them would be terrible. I never thought i’d pine for a gym uniform, and yet here I am.” He huffs a frustrated breath

“Sorry,” Kent says, “that’s just how things are.”

“Whatever,” Bitty says, “I’m annoyed and I don’t feel like going back to the dorms. I’ll see y’all later.”

“You going to bake?” Jack asks, perking up despite his insistence on eating healthy.

“No,” Bitty says, “I’m just going to pace around the castle sullenly until I come up with something.”

“A true slytherin.” Kent says approvingly, hand over his heart.

Bitty rolls his eyes and doesn’t answer, instead handing Kent his things with a polite request to bring them to his dorm room.

\------

Instead of continuing down the stairs towards the kitchens or Slytherin common room, Bitty heads back up. It’s high time he explored the castle, sprawling as it is. But he knows better than to lose track of where he is. If he finds something interesting he wants to be able to retrace his steps.

He knows Slytherin is a good house for him, from what Kent keeps saying, it suits him, but he hates how dreary the common room is. Sometimes he wishes he were a Gryffindor, he hears their dorms are in a tower, accessible from the highest floor in the castle. 

If anyone is likely to know about a way to illicitly aquire some weights and set up a weight room, it would probably be a Gryffindor.

He searches the seventh floor for Gryffindor tower, focused single mindedly on his goal of maintaining his ability to lift men twice his weight. He’ll never tell Jack and Kent, but that’s probably one of his biggest motivators. He has no illusions about his stature, he knows he’s probably going to be relatively small the rest of his life, but he’d like to at least be able to match his partners in terms of strength.

He sighs, reaching a dead end with no tower in sight, turning back the way he came and retracing his steps. He knows getting a weight room is probably a bit of a pipe dream, but he’s determined to at least try. 

He’s still walking when he spots Farmer coming towards him, and she calls out to him with a friendly wave. They met through Chowder and they get along well enough. Bitty smiles and returns her greeting.

“What are you doing in Gryffindor territory snake boy?” Farmer asks, coming in for a noogie that Bitty expertly dodges. She just laughs, not attempting to noogie him again.

“I’m livin’ on a prayer,” Bitty says, beginning to follow her. “I was hoping a Gryffindor would know something about where I could procure some weights.”

“Weights?” Farmer asks. “You lift?”

“Yes,” Bitty huffs, “and I’d like to still be able to by the year’s end.”

“Fair enough,” Farmer responds, “though I can’t really help you on that front. I mostly just do pushups and lift my boyfriend whenever I hug him. Which is all the time.”

Bitty snorts a laugh, believing every word of it.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have a boyfriend to lift. Even if I did, it wouldn’t be the same...” He starts, but he trails off, pausing to observe the door that was definitely not there three seconds ago.

He blinks, then blinks again. The door is still there. He turns to look at Farmer, who paused when he did.

“Is it just me, or did that door appear from thin air? I’ve been down this hallway three times and this is the first I've seen of it.”

Farmer shrugs. “This is Hogwarts. Stranger things have happened.”

Bitty looks at the door again. “Should I… open it?” He asks.

Farmer just rolls her eyes and pushes past him, opening the door herself. Bitty follows.

Inside is a weight room. Exactly the way he would have wanted it. He gapes, eyes passing reverently over the equipment.

Farmer whistles approvingly. “I guess you found a weight room.”

“But I thought there wasn’t one.” Bitty says incredulously.

“As far as I know, there wasn’t.” Farmer responds. “There also wasn’t a door here.”

“I’m almost afraid to leave. I don’t want it to disappear again.”

Farmer wrinkles her nose. “But our robes will get sweaty if we lift in them.”

Two sets of gym clothes appear on one of the benches, and Bitty starts in surprise.

“Huh.” Farmer says. Then looks up to the ceiling. “We could use some privacy to change in too.”

Two department store style changing stalls pop into existence, but Bitty doesn’t start this time. He just stares.

“If we can get this room to show up again we’ll have to call an interhouse truce to come work out here together.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a conflict we needed a truce from.” Bitty says, brow furrowed.

“You’re my competition,” Farmer says, “we’re facing each other on the quidditch field in the first match of the year soon, of course there’s conflict.”

“Who do you want to invite?” Bitty asks.

“My boyfriend and teammates.”

“If I can invite mine, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend.” Farmer says, grinning.

Bitty blushes, but holds his hand out firmly to shake on it.

\-----

After the first visit, Bitty carefully notes where the door was, and attempts to recreate whatever situation caused it to appear in the first place. It takes about half an hour, but he comes to the conclusion that pacing in front of the tapestry across the hall while thinking about weights tends to do the trick.

He returns to the Slytherin common rooms around eight, having missed dinner but triumphant nonetheless. He ate in the kitchens, the house elves happy to feed him some of the nights leftovers.

Kent looks up from where he’s sprawled over Jack’s lap, and gives Bitty a wave.

“I did it.” Bitty announces without preamble.

“What?” Kent asks. Jack looks up from his textbook as well.

“I found a weight room. Or I made a weight room. I’m not sure.”

Kent just looks at him in confusion. 

Bitty just waves it off.

“I’ll show you tomorrow.”

\-----

The next day, Bitty is relieved to find that the pacing method still works, and he proudly shows Kent and Jack the room.

Kent ooh and ahhs and Jack curiously asks Bitty to explain all the equipment. Bitty explains everything, and then tells them about the deal he struck with Farmer and his intention to invite the other members of the Slytherin team to exercise with them.

Jack considers it. “I don’t want it to be mandatory since we already set a practice schedule and I don’t know how this works, but if they want to join it would probably be good for the team.”

\-----

In the end, they only end up with one other member of the Slytherin team and two more from the Gryffindor team.

When Jack asks the team at next practice who wants to join them, Whiskey rain checks after finding out it isn’t mandatory, the newbie begs out for homework reasons, and Johnson claims he isn’t “plot relevant enough” to join them.

Bitty doesn’t claim to understand what the hell that means, but everyone accepts it without questioning. 

Ransom asks if he can invite Holster, a beater from the Hufflepuff team, and fist pumps when he gains approval. 

When they finally end up back in front of the tapestry, the group has a far more healthy spread of houses than Bitty first thought. They even managed to pick up a ravenclaw player, who introduces himself as Shitty and is somehow in possession of a full mustache at eighteen. Other than that, they’ve gained two more Gryffindors, Lardo and Nursey, and another Hufflepuff, Dex: a friend of Chowder’s. 

At eleven people, the room is a bit full, and they definitely have to take turns changing, but they manage to find a piece of equipment for everyone.

Those with a knowledge of muggle things instruct those who don’t know how to use the machinery. Bitty figures a bench press will be relatively easy to teach, with the added bonus of being able to spot as he goes. Jack obediently follows him over to the bench, laying down and listening to Bitty’s instructions.

In a very short period of time Bitty begins to very seriously regret his decision to invite them. Bitty has never seen Jack out of his robes. He’s never seen Jack’s arms—and he has certainly never seen Jack’s arms while lifting heavy weights, and following Bitty’s directions in an easy way that makes his heart flutter in his chest.

He lets his eyes flick away for a second before returning like a magnetic force is compelling them towards Jack’s arms. It’s a little bit hypnotic.

He clears his throat, and Jack finishes his set without incident.

“That was good.” Bitty says. “Now my turn, you can spot me.”

\-----

Things go by with little incident for the first few times they visit the room. Ransom and Holster seem happy to have an excuse to hang out together, which is nice, seeing as it’s clear they’re fated to play on the same team. Dex and Nursey bicker like no ones business, but between Farmer and Chowder, they can usually keep collateral damage to a minimum. 

Shitty seems happy to have been invited by Lardo, and they peacefully spot each other, sharing idle gossip. But Lardo can bench an impressive amount for someone her size.

Bitty ends up hearing Shitty’s impressed voice floating across the room.

“Dude, I bet you could bench me if you tried.”

“I could pick you up, but I don’t think I could bench you,” Lardo admits.

“Do it bro.” Shitty says, arms outstretched. “Take me into your loving arms.”

Lardo laughs and scoops him up into a bridal carry, twirling him around before setting him down.

Apparently that sparks Farmer’s competitive streak, because she interjects from across the room to say “that’s nothing, watch this.”

She says something to Chowder in a lower tone, and he nods. Then she casts wingardium leviosa on him, lifting him up into the air.

“That doesn’t count.” Shitty says, laughing nonetheless.

“I’m not done yet.” Farmer says, smirking and laying back on the bench. She plucks her floating boyfriend out of the air and releases the spell when she has a good grip under his upper back and knees.

She lifts him up into the air for four reps, and it’s obviously a struggle, but she’s smart enough not to strain herself before setting him down.

Bitty turns to Jack. He catches on quickly.

“I weigh almost twice as much as you Bittle.” Jack says, effectively drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

Lifting a man twice his size has always been the goal, but he refrains from saying that. 

“I’ll do an easy lift, I promise.” He fixes Jack with his most beseeching gaze, and Jack sighs.

“Alright.”

The attention of the room turns on them for the next spectacle, and Bitty positions himself facing Jack.

“The easiest way to lift you would probably be if I put my forearms under your butt and just lifted you up like that. Is that okay?”

Jack sighs and nods assent, but Bitty doesn’t miss the way his face turns pink.

Bitty lifts just the way he said he would, belatedly realizing that doing so means that he will be touching Jack’s butt. It’s a very nice butt. 

Objectively, Bitty had known this, but knowing and feeling are two entirely different beasts. Not to mention, the way this hold works, their chests are pressed together.

It’s… far more intimate than Bitty prepared himself for.

After a long moment, he sets Jack down, his own cheeks aflame.

There's a few general statements of approval from the room, as Bitty hadn’t really acted like it was difficult.

To cover his own lingering embarrassment, Bitty searches for something to say.

“Y’know,” he says, “that was easier than I thought it would be. I could probably bench you too.”

“No.” Jack says, at the same time as Kent says “It was easy because Jack’s ass gave you a big enough shelf to make it easy.”

Kent points across the room at Holster. “Pick him up in a harder hold. Then I’ll be impressed.”

Not one to back down from a challenge, Bitty crosses the room. At his questioning look, Holster nods, and Bitty scoops him up into a bridal carry.

Holster is attractive, just like Jack, but for some reason lifting him just doesn’t set Bitty’s heart fluttering the same way.

After a moment, he easily sets Holster back down. Farmer insists on lifting Holster as well, and the room quickly dissolves into chaos.

Bitty can’t help but feel somewhat removed from it though, too busy thinking about how screwed he is now that Jack and Kent are in his life—doing everything they can to make it so much brighter.


	5. Kent

“You just wanted to watch him lift Holster.” Jack accuses playfully, as soon as they’re alone.

“Guilty as charged,” Kent admits, grinning cheekily. “Though,” He adds, “you didn’t seem to mind being picked up by him.”

Jack blushes a little, but his voice is even and his face is neutral when he responds. “He’s strong.”

“...I should have made him pick me up.”  
\-----  
The next few weeks leading up to the first game of the season pass with relatively little incidence. 

They practice, attend classes, and lift weights. In between all this, he and Jack steal little moments together.

Kisses on the common room couches, moments in the perfects baths under the plausible deniability of bathing together and the security of being able to hear the door open, keeping irregular hours to sneak into each other’s beds after their dorm mates have fallen asleep. It’s comfortable, but Kent wishes they could be more open, wishes it could be as simple as hanging a sock on the doorknob and telling their roommates to fuck off.

But all he has to do is wait. Just one more year and they’ll be professional quidditch players, they’ll be living alone and unhindered by secrecy. Then when they’re secure under contract, they can come out.  
——

Despite not being a quidditch player, Denise Ford—the game announcer—earned a nickname from Kent when she first began announcing.

She wears it like a badge of honor, which Kent wholly appreciates. It’s nice to know someone appreciates his naming endeavors.

“Hello all, and welcome to the first game of the year.” Her voice booms across the fields, echoing out. “This is your commentator, Foxtrot, here to announce our first Gryffindor Slytherin match. Historically rival houses, this one is bound to be exciting.”

They only get to face Gryffindor once per year, and they had beaten them last year, but it had been a close call. Kent knows their line up this year is strong, but he doesn’t know much about the new Gryffindors. He can hear the blood rushing through his ears all too keenly, his pulse heightened with adrenaline and nerves.

Three matches per year, three days Kent builds his life around. He flicks his glance to Jack, and his face is stony, serious and focused. Kent urges himself to feel the same.

Finally, he turns to Bitty. Bitty seems more excited than anything, practically vibrating with energy. It’s heartening to see, but Kent knows Bitty won’t be on the field for another 18 minutes after they are. The rest of the team needs to work to try to score a hundred and fifty points more than Gryffindor. They can’t use Bitty as a crutch.

Kent sets his gaze towards the field and flies up to his starting position.

——-

The game starts off well, the Slytherin defence holds their ground admirably, but getting past Farmer is a bitch and a half. Not to mention the struggle to get balls past Lardo in goal.

The two teams both have incredible defenses, but it’s clear that the Slytherin offense is winning out. Kent wants to be smug about it, but he knows he has to focus on getting goals.

By the time the two seekers are released, Kent is feinting Lardo out, then passing the quaffle to Jack at the last minute instead of taking his shot on goal. Jack bats the ball through one of the unguarded hoops, and Foxtrot excitedly announces the goal.

Lardo begrudgingly throws the quaffle back into play, and Kent and Jack chase after it.

He has to dodge at the last minute to avoid colliding with Bitty, who’s far outpacing the opposing seeker as he races after the snitch. Kent doesn’t track their progress beyond that, focusing on the game. But before long he hears Foxtrot’s startled voice announcing some sort of problem.

Unable to help himself, he glances over to see Bitty hanging from his broomstick by his hands, looking dazed.

“Hey!” Jack yells, from across the way. “Keep your head in the game! Bittle can handle himself.”

Kent shakes his head and follows after Jack, trusting Bitty to right himself.

If Foxtrot’s announcement less than a minute later is any indication, he did, through some feat of contortionism and strength. Kent kind of wishes he’d seen it, but he dutifully focuses on distracting a beater so Whiskey can take a shot on goal. He almost gets a bludger to the head for his troubles, but Whiskey scores. 

Minutes later, Foxtrot gives an excited yell to indicate the end of the game.

“And in a beautiful catch on Bittle’s part, Slytherin takes a stunning victory: 230 points to 40! Even after that close call with the broom, Bittle managed to catch the snitch in an impressive fifteen minutes. A promising showing from Slytherin’s new seeker.”

Kent’s eyes land on movement in the stands. Someone is leaving early, before the two teams get to land and shake hands. Kent squints to see who it is.

It looks like Dunn, and he doesn’t seem all too happy with Bitty’s successful first match. Kent is almost sorry for him for a moment. It is his last year at Hogwarts, losing his position so late in his career has got to sting. 

But then Kent recalls the times he’s been casually horrible and slimy, and he doesn’t feel very sorry at all.

He lands on the pitch with Jack close on his heels. Bitty is making his way over to them, looking dazed but triumphant.

“Good job.” Kent says, slapping him on the back the moment he’s in arms reach.

“You ok?” Jack asks, obviously noticing how dazed Bitty looks.

“Yeah,” Bitty says, tipping his head to the side and back again, “I think I got vertigo from the altitude or something. My head feels kind of weird.”

“We’ll take you to Madam Pomfrey after we finish with post game.” Kent assures. “But let us know if you feel like you need to go sooner.”

Bitty smiles up at him at that. It’s a bit queasy, but genuine.

——-

Their next game isn’t until February, so they get quite some time to revel in their victory and practice for their next one.

In the meantime, plenty of students congratulate Kent on his team’s victory. Kent’s been popular ever since he joined the quidditch team, so well wishes and strangers approaching him aren’t novel occurrences.

He’s walking from potions to the library, ready to take his free period, when a girl he doesn’t recognize waves him down. She seems nervous, and if Kent had to guess, he’d say she’s probably around fifth year. He mentally braces to turn her down, grateful that the corridor isn’t excessively populated. Just a few students milling in different directions, none of which seem overly interested in the proceedings.

“Hi.” Kent says, smiling politely.

“Here.” The girl says, thrusting a box of chocolates into his hands. “I heard they were your favorite. Congratulations on your win.”

He looks down at the box in surprise. They are his favorite, and his stomach grumbles. It’s the period of time before lunch that he always dreads, where he’s hungry from the day but still needing to wait an hour before he can eat.

He doesn’t want to be rude, he should show her he appreciates the gift.

“Thank you.” He says, opening the box. He offers her one silently, but she shakes her head. He shrugs and takes a bite.

A few things happen at once. 

First, he catches a glimpse of a familiar head of brown hair. Then he hears someone call his name. He finishes biting down on the chocolate, and it hits his tongue. He tracks the head and his eyes land on Bitty’s face.

It’s gorgeous.

He already knew that, but he’s so keenly aware of it now that it feels like his heart is being strangled in his chest.

He is distantly aware of the girl walking off, but he can hardly bring himself to care. Not now that Bitty is meeting his eye. 

Bitty smiles at him, and it almost hurts to look at, it’s so brilliant. Kent smiles back, stupidly, and his hands go slack. The chocolates clatter to the floor, and Bitty frowns at that, his approach faltering.

Kent frowns back. He’s upset that Bitty isn’t happy. He racks his mind for a way to make him as happy as he makes Kent.

Kisses usually make Jack happy, maybe Bitty would be happy with that too. Kent smiles again, striding up to Bitty. 

“Hi.” He says, breathless with excitement. Then he kisses Bitty.

Bitty makes a startled noise into his mouth, then almost kisses back, just for a few seconds, before dislodging and putting a careful distance between them. Kent whines plantitively and attempts to close the gap again.

Bitty carefully holds him at an arm's length. He seems ruffled. His lips have a faint sheen, and seem attractively full. Kent reaches a hand up to touch them, but Bitty bats it away. Kent pouts.

“Madame Pomfrey.” Bitty says decidedly. “We’re going to see Madame Pomfrey.”

“But I don’t want to.” Kent says. “I just want to kiss you.”

“Oh lord.” Bitty says, pressing a hand to his forehead and turning bright red. “Let’s go Kent.”

He tugs Kent along after him by his wrist, and Kent follows without too much fight. He walks a little faster so they can be side by side, taking in the warmth of Bitty next to him.

“I like it when you’re assertive.” Kent says, wanting Bitty to know how he feels. “It’s nice.”

Bitty blushes harder, and walks a little faster.

“I probably couldn’t break your grip unless I was trying really hard.” Kent says, testing the grip. “I like that too.”

By the time they make it to Madame Pomfrey, Bitty is red as a stoplight.

“Something’s wrong with him.” Bitty says without preamble, thrusting Kent into the room.

“Nothings wrong with me, Bitty.” Kent says, sullen. “I love you. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Something’s wrong with him.” Bitty says, more firmly now.

“Seems like a love potion gone wrong.” Madame Pomfrey says. 

He doesn’t spare her a glance, too busy watching Bitty.

“You have the most beautiful eyes.” Kent says.

“Please fix him.” Bitty says, voice strained.

“I take it you didn’t make the love potion?” Pomfrey asks.

“No.” Bitty says, sounding horrified.

Kent loops his arm around Bitty’s waist in a half hug, hoping to comfort him.

Bitty tenses, then forcibly relaxes.

“I think I know what kind of potion it is then. Did you see him eat whatever it was hidden in?”

“Yes.” Bitty says. He seems to be calming down a little with Pomfrey’s businesslike manner. Kent is glad.

“It’s definitely the one I’m thinking of then.”

Kent can hear Pomfrey bustling around, but he’s too busy counting Bitty’s faint freckles to pay her any mind.

“You have freckles.” He says. “I like them.”

“Thank you.” Bitty says. He blushes just a little, but it seems like he’s regaining his control. It’s nice when he’s calm and happy. But Kent hadn’t minded seeing him lose his composure just a bit.

“This should work.” Pomfrey says. “Can you get him to drink it?”

Bitty accepts a vial of liquid from her.

“Can you take this for me please Kent?”

“I’d do anything for you Bitty.”

He smiles a little at that, but it doesn’t seem like he really believes it, so Kent knocks the vial back easily and insists “anything. Just name it.”

Bitty looks startled and turns to Pomfrey. 

“It should take an hour or so for the antidote to work.” She asserts. “In the meantime he can sit on one of the cots.”

Bitty nods, and leads him over to the cot. He’s calm again now, his breathing steady, and his cheeks back to their usual color.

He pulls a book out of his bag and sits next to the cot. 

Kent sits down on the edge of the bed and fidgets quietly for a while, trying to give Bitty silence to read his book in.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Kent asks, finally giving in. Bitty glances up from the book.

“I don’t want the antidote to work.”

Bitty hums in response, his gaze dropping back down to his book.

“That’s nice honey”

He doesn’t think Bitty really gets it. So he infuses as much passion as he possibly can into his voice. “I love you Bitty.”

Bitty pats his hand without looking up from his book.

“Love you too darlin’.”

It’s said flippantly, and normally Kent wouldn’t believe it at all. But the way he says it is just so easy. Like the words belong there.

Kent gapes up at him in open adoration. “Really?” He says, feeling bowled over and so in love.

He hops off the bed and snuggles in to Bitty’s side before he can respond.

From the corner of the room Madame Pomfrey sighs. 

“I can knock him out for a bit if you want some time to yourself”

Kent frowns from his place tucked under Bitty’s arm.

“Just for a bit?” Bitty asks.

Before Kent can say anything, his world fades to black. But he’ll be thinking about the easy way Bitty said “love you too” for weeks to come


	6. Jack

When Bitty cautiously peeks into the common room, looking somewhat harried, Jack immediately knows something is wrong.

When Bitty nervously informs Jack what happened, he doesn’t really want to believe it. But on the other hand, it does seem like exactly the stupid kind of thing Kent would get into.

When Bitty shows him to Kent’s cot, well, he mostly just stares incredulously at Kent’s passed out body.

Madame pomfrey bustles up to them, addressing Bitty when she speaks.

“I’d like to know who did this to him. I assure you there’ll be very serious consequences for the perpetrator.” 

Jack turns curiously to Bitty, but he seems hesitant for some reason.

The silence ticks on.

“Is it someone you know?” Pomfrey asks. “You shouldn’t protect them, love potions are a serious breach of consent.”

“I know.” Bitty says. “It’s just…”

“What?” Jack asks.

“It doesn’t feel right.” Bitty says. “Something is off.”

“Just tell us.” Jack says, growing a bit impatient at Bitty’s hedging. “Whoever it is deserves the punishment.

“I know.” Bitty says, a bit annoyed. “I’m not saying they don’t… it’s just… the person who gave him the chocolates wasn’t one of the usual suspects.”

“So?” Jack asks, incredulous. “How would you even know who the usual suspects are?”

“I've spent a lot of time with y’all recently. There’s definitely some recurring faces that bother him. And I got a good look into the stands at the quidditch match, I don’t think she was even at the game.”

“You probably didn’t see her.” Jack says.

“But that still doesn’t explain why I’ve never seen her around Kent. Why she’s never said anything to him or bothered him at all.”

“Sometimes the quiet ones are the most surprising.” Jack shrugs.

Bitty shoots him an amused look. Which he supposes is fair, he’s pretty quiet himself.

Then Bitty sighs and tips his head at him in a clear signal of defeat. 

“She is the one that gave him the candy, I suppose that’s the only person it could be.”

He turns to Madame Pomfrey.

“Her name is Allison Scheet. She’s a sixth year as well.”

Bitty sighs and turns his gaze towards Kent’s sleeping form.

Then, inexplicably, he turns to Jack.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Jack asks, honestly bewildered.

Bitty scrutinizes him for a few seconds, then shakes his head.

“Nothing, nevermind.” 

He sighs again then, looking back to Kent and then up at Jack again. He claps his hands together a little, seemingly willing himself to regain his energy.

“Well! I’m going to go bake some pies, I don’t want him to be too embarrassed when he wakes up.”

“What did he do?” Jack asks, curious despite himself.

Bitty seems amused. “Ask him yourself.” He says, and then he’s gone.

Jack just stares after him for a moment. He looks to Madame Pomfrey, but she’s busy adding wormwood to some sort of potion that’s been bubbling in the corner and paying him no mind at all. Finally, he sighs and sits down in the seat next to Kent’s cot to read.

Kent wakes up some ten minutes later, and Jack looks up from the History text he’s reading.

“What did you even do to Bittle.” He asks, the moment Kent’s eyes land on him.

Kent just groans and turns his head into his pillow. 

“Fuck off, Zimms.” He whines. But after a moment he lifts his head from his pillow.

“Where’s Bitty?”

Jack smirks. “Are you sure the potion wore off?”

“Shut up.” Kent hisses, soft enough that Madame Pomfrey can’t hear. “You know I already had a huge crush on him.” 

Jack just smiles and shakes his head at him.

They’ve finally caught Madame Pomfrey’s attention though. She doesn’t look impressed. She addresses Kent.

“You should be fully recovered now. Unless you’re feeling strange in any way?”

“No.” Kent says. “I’m fine.”

“Good, then get out so I can talk to the headmaster about disciplinary actions for the girl that did this to you. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

She impatiently herds them out, practically closing the door on their robes.

Kent seems a bit disoriented, but that’s not uncommon after he wakes up. Jack just sighs and herds him to the Slytherin dorms.

Kent and Jack have found that there are times of day when the dorm’s common room are typically unpopulated. The lake above casts beautiful lights across the room, but doesn’t exactly insulate a homely environment. 

Besides, their house doesn’t have ambition as a defining trait for nothing. Slytherins typically log the same amount of library hours as Ravenclaws, if not more.

Unfortunately, now is not one of the underpopulated hours. Lunch time just ended, and the foot traffic for those between periods is kicking up.

They could, of course, wait until after everyone leaves to talk. But for once Jack isn’t interested in sitting in silence.

He doubts it would be an easy silence, anyways.

“C’mon.” He says, leading Kent up to their dorm room.

They nearly bump into Ransom on their way in the door and they exchange startled looks before they get their bearings.

“Oh hey bros!” Ransom says, readjusting the bag across his shoulder. “You getting something for your next class?”

“No.” Kent says, and then fails to elaborate, seeming at a loss for words.

“Kent isn’t feeling well.” Jack supplies.

“Ohhh.” Ransom says, and the look he shoots Jack is a little too knowing for comfort. “That sucks. Dunn already left for class though, if he needs to lie down he won’t be bothered for a while.”

Ransom looks like it’s taking everything in him not to wink, Jack can see the corner of his eye visibly twitch before he straightens his face.

“Gotta head out, see you later.”

Jack shoots Kent a look to gauge his reaction as Ransom breezes past them, but he seems too distracted to notice. This is probably something they’ll have to address at some point. But Ransom is a good guy, he probably won’t say anything until they come to him.

Kent walks into their dorm ahead of him and starts pacing back and forth. Jack closes the door and leans against it, waiting for Kent to gather his thoughts.

Kent comes to a halt after a few moments, then groans and sits on the floor, legs crossed. 

“What are you doing?” Jack asks, amused.

“Stewing in my own embarrassment.” Kent groans.

“Jeeze.” Jack huffs. “What did you even do?” 

“I kissed him in the middle of the hallway.” Kent says. “I don’t know If anyone noticed. I definitely wasn’t paying attention… but somebody probably noticed.”

Jack waves it off. “News of what happened will spread soon. Everyone will know you were under a love potion.”

“It’s still embarrassing.” Kent moans. “He definitely didn’t want to kiss me back, I feel kind of bad for forcing myself on him.”

“I’m sure he’s okay.” Jack says. “He knows you were under a potion too. You can apologize to him later, I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”

“I gave him a lot of weird compliments.” Kent says, insistent in his shame.

“You don’t already do that?”

“....I told him I love him.” Kent says, near a whisper.

“That’s pretty common.” Jack says. “You were under the influence of a love potion.”

“But he said it back!” Kent says, straightening. “That’s not common.”

Jack… isn’t sure what to say to that. He’s been writing off Kent’s feelings for Bitty as just a crush, not really that big of a deal. But maybe it's time to re-examine those notions, and think about the implications of Bitty returning his affections. 

Kent rises to his feet again, then runs a hand through his hair.

“I mean, okay, he said it pretty flippantly. I’m pretty sure it was just to placate me. But it felt real.”

That last bit seems more like a question than anything and Kent looks beseechingly up at Jack.

“Do you want it to be?” Jack asks.

“What?” Kent says.

“Do you want it to be real?”

“No!” Kent says, horror stricken. “I have you.”

Jack waves that off as a given, even as his heart skips a beat in his chest at the words. He reaches out to hold Kent’s hand.

“It’s okay.” Jack says. “I can tell you’re still thinking about it.”

“I…” Kent falters. “I love you, Jack. I don’t want to lose that.” 

It’s the first time he’s said it. He makes steady eye contact with Jack, holding his hands in a death grip. Jack wonders if he can feel his pulse racing under his fingertips.

“I love you too.” Jack says, feeling soft and open and knowing his face is just the same.

Kent smiles so wide Jack worries the corners of his mouth will split open. His answering grin is just as large.

He wonders how it took them so long to say it.

Really, he guesses their relationship was never exactly built on a pillar of communication. He’s never been fond of talking in general, and despite being verbose, Kent has never really known how to say a lot of the things that matter.

He supposes it’s something they’ll both have to work on.

Jack takes Kent’s face in his hands and leans in for a long, slow kiss. It’s sweet, and his heart clenches in his chest with how much he loves Kent. He pulls back and smiles at him.

“You’re still thinking about it.”

“I’m just thinking about you now.” Kent responds, breathlessly and, as far as Jack can tell, truthfully.

“Okay,” Jack concedes, “then I’m thinking about it.”

Kent groans, letting his head thunk against Jack’s shoulder. 

“It’s not a problem.” he says, voice muffled. “I’ll take care of it.”

Jack isn’t sure why he’s prodding this. He knows he should be jealous. But he isn’t. He hasn’t been from the time this was just a crush, and he isn’t now, when he’s sure it’s something more. He likes Bitty. He likes the way he makes Kent smile, and bakes delicious pies, and effortlessly does the impossible on the quidditch field. He’s not sure if he feels the same way about Bitty as Kent does, but he does know he likes the way Bitty makes Kent feel.

“I’m not upset.” Jack says. “I want a better idea of what’s happening here.”

Kent lifts his head from Jack’s shoulder and runs his hand through his hair again, a nervous tic. He lets all the air out of his lungs in an explosive exhale.

“I don’t know.” Kent says. “He just said it so easily. Like we’d been together for ages and I was seeing him off to work or something. It felt so domestic.”

“And you liked that?” Jack asks.

“Yeah.” Kent admits. “I did.”

Jack mulls it over for a long moment. Kent seems nervous at the admission, but Jack refuses to let himself get nervous too. 

Kent likes Bitty, and obviously also likes the thought of having a future with him. But Jack knows Kent, and he’s gushed about their future as well. About being on the same team and settling down and coming out.

He’d been so excited when they heard that a couple on the Holyhead Harpies had come out, and his first reaction had been to turn to Jack and whisper “that’s going to be us.”

Jack has looked forward to that future, and he realizes now that that’s probably why they’d never exchanged “I love you’s” before now. They’d never had to. Those plans, their staunch determination to see them to fruition; they were enough. They were I love you’s in and of themselves.

So what if their plans don’t turn out exactly the way he envisioned them? They’ll still do the things they promised: move in, settle down, play quidditch. 

That’s all they need. Jack has made up his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of feelings for how different Jack and Kent’s relationship would have been if they didn’t have to worry about being split up onto different teams by the draft.


	7. Bitty

Bitty made an apple pie. Just a simple thing for him, but he didn’t really want to put too much brain power into baking right now. He had just wanted a mind numbing activity. 

When it was all done, and the pie was out, and the flour was strewn across his robes and forehead he had cast a simple cleaning charm, gathered his pie, and left.

There was nothing else to do really, he couldn’t hide out in the kitchens forever, with the memory of Kent’s lips still tingling on his. It just… wasn’t an option. He doesn’t exactly maintain a chipper pace to the Slytherin dorms, but they aren’t exactly far away either, so there’s only so much dawdling he can do.

He steels himself and enters, but when he does, there’s no one around. 

That’s right, there are classes going on. He winces to himself. He definitely missed potions, but his grades are good. There’s no need to worry.

He sets the pie on the table in the common room, casting a quick charm to keep flies away. It’s not enough to ward off hungry students, but no one should be back for a bit. His pie should be safe while he goes to his room to drop off the books he’s been lugging around mindlessly.

He begins the walk to his room, but comes to a halt in the hallway at the sound of what seems to be an argument. It’s coming from Kent and Jack’s dorm, and it sounds like them.

“It’s fine.” Jack says.

“What do you mean it’s fine?” Kent responds, incredulous. “I just basically told you I have feelings for another guy.”

Bitty nearly drops his books on the floor in shock, but he manages to avoid it. He continues to listen in, too entranced not to.

“Do you not have feelings for me anymore?” Jack shoots back, lighting quick and steady as a rock. He seems unperturbed.

“What are you talking about, of course I do. We literally just talked about this.”

“Then it’s fine if you like him too. You know I saw this coming. I’ve seen this coming. You’ve told me you thought he was cute approximately fifty thousand times.”

“I said he was cute, I said I had a crush, but this is getting to be bigger than a crush Jack.”

There’s a long silence before Jack responds.

“Do you love him?”

Kent’s pause is equally long.

“I don’t know.” He says, finally. “I definitely don’t feel the way the potion made me feel—but I don’t know if that was even love—and I don’t love him the way I love you. But…”

“You think you could.” Jack says simply.

“Why are you taking this so well?

“I don’t know. I like him too.”

Bitty can picture Jack shrugging behind the door. The way he says it, he probably is. 

“Really?” Kent asks, definite surprise in his voice. And hope, though Bitty isn’t entirely sure what for.

“I don't know.” Jack amends. “I don’t feel as strongly about him as you do, but maybe I could like him more too? But even if I don’t, I want you to be happy. If you get a chance, you have my permission to go after him.”

“What?” Kent says, startled. “But I want to stay with you.”

“You can. If he’s fine with it, you can have us both. Me and Bittle.”

Bitty can’t help it this time, he gasps aloud, and nearly drops his textbooks again.

The conversation on the other side of the door stops, as does Bitty’s heart.

He desperately searches for somewhere to hide, but the corridor is empty and he’s running out of time. He plasters himself to the darkest corner the hall has and casts a panicked disillusionment spell.

Jack’s door opens, and he peeks outside. His gaze searches the hallway… and slides right over Bitty.

He seems confused, but he definitely hasn’t seen Bitty. 

“I guess it was nothing.” He says, and turns back inside, closing the door behind him.

Bitty lets out a sigh of relief. He isn’t entirely sure why he hid, but his mind is racing a mile a minute and he knows he could use some time alone to think. 

——-

A week later Bitty still isn’t sure what to do with himself. He missed his chance to interject in the conversation and he has no idea how to go about bringing it up independently.

He knows he’s happy though. Kent has feelings for him and Jack likes him. Even if Jack doesn’t want to date him. 

He feels selfish for being a bit disappointed by that. Kent is more than enough. More than he ever hoped for.

That is if he ever gets around to talking to him about it.

He’s spent plenty of time with both Jack and Kent since he overheard them, but for some reason it just hasn’t felt like the right time to say anything. Maybe he’s just scared. That’s an entirely feasible explanation.

Aside from that, the week has been eventful in other ways. The headmistress called Kent and Bitty in to verify that the girl had been the one to give Kent the chocolates.

It was the same girl, but she denied doing it. She said there was a chunk of time missing from her memory, that she didn’t even care about quidditch. She cried when the headmistress pointed out, in that stern voice of hers, that there had been many witnesses who had seen her give Kent the chocolates.

It had been uncomfortable. She seemed sincere, but Bitty had seen everything. He has no reason to believe her.

The whole thing just feels wrong to Bitty, but he isn’t sure what’s going on yet. It’s a frustrating feeling, an impotence he can’t seem to shake. It’s not something he’s used to, no matter how many times in his life he experiences fears of inadequacy, he usually has a plan of attack, at least some inkling of how to face a situation.

He sighs and closes his textbook, leaving the library. It isn’t like he can focus anyways, not with all the thoughts swirling around in his head.

He heads to the Slytherin dorms and finds no one in the common rooms. He checks the clock in the corner and notes it’s almost dinner time. Everyone is probably on their way to the dining hall, or already there. He should drop his textbook off and join them all.

He would have, too. If not for the voices he hears coming from Kent and Jack’s dorms. For the second time in as many weeks, he hears a conversation of Kent’s that’s meant to be private.

Only this time, the door is wide open. This time it’s not Jack Kent’s talking to. This time, Bitty is much less inclined to stay out of things.

A greasy looking guy with long black hair slicked back from his forehead is using a forearm to block Kent in against the wall. Kent looks noticeably uncomfortable, like he would bolt if he could. 

The guy looks familiar, and after a moment Bitty places him. It’s Dunn, the seeker that he had beaten out at the beginning of the year. He doesn’t seem angry, but his presence definitely doesn’t seem friendly or welcome.

“Come now,” he says, sounding like the slimiest Victorian wannabe to ever crawl out of a bog, “dalliances with half bloods are excusable. It’s not like you can get pregnant.”

“Yeah, that’s not the issue here.” Kent says. He’s obviously trying for sassy, but backsliding into cornered and uncomfortable very quickly.

Bitty recalls hearing that Dunn is Kent’s roommate. He wonders if this is the first time something like this has happened. He doubts it.

He wrestles with his instinct to step in for a moment. He doesn’t want to fight Kent’s battles for him, but Dunn seems like the kind of unmanageable asshole that can only be deterred by a crowd, and Kent seems like he’s floundering a little. If Kent isn’t a fan he can tell him off later.

“Excuse me.” Bitty says, stepping into the dorm room. “But I think it’s past time for you to leave him alone now.” 

Dunn looks up, startled at the intrusion, but doesn’t back out of Kent’s space.

“You have no place in this,” He sneers, “it’s between us, and us alone.”

“He’s obviously uncomfortable.” Bitty says, past irritated at this point. “He turned you down and you need to respect that.”

Bitty hadn’t been there for that, but he doesn’t doubt it happened. It’s frustrating though, about a week ago he had stood near here and overheard one of the most important conversations in his life. It feels like sullying that memory, standing so near where he had hidden himself…

His thoughts trail off for a moment. He feels like he’s on the verge of a realization now, looking at Dunn. Remembering the spell he cast. Dunn. Disillusionment. A voice calling Kent’s name. An all too familiar voice.

Dunn had been there. That day when the girl gave Kent the chocolates, Dunn had been there. Dunn had been there the day he almost fell off his broom too, in the stands. He can see the jealousy and entitlement written all over his face now, and he knows exactly who has been behind a sizeable amount of grief.

“You.” He said. “You did this.”

He moves forward, and he knows the intent of violence is written all across his face, because Dunn actually backs up. Bitty points an accusatory finger at him.

“I saw you in the stands at the Gryffindor game. You left early, I thought you were just upset because I caught the snitch. But there was more to it than that, wasn’t there?”

Dunn opens his mouth to speak, but Bitty cuts him off. It was a rhetorical question.

“You hexed me. Probably the Confundus charm. I had almost caught the snitch when that spell hit. Then I was barely hanging on to my broom.” Bitty snorts derisively. “Too bad you weren’t good enough to cast one that would keep me off.”

Dunn is clearly angry at the accusation.

“I-“ He begins, but Bitty cuts him off again.

“I’m not done.” He says cooly.

“You know.” He continues. “I knew there was something fishy about that poor girl that gave Kent the chocolates. Probably because you were the one that was really behind it.” 

Bitty isn’t sure how he managed to get her to give Kent the chocolates, but Dunn is paling. Bitty knows he’s right on the money.

“You obliviated her so she wouldn’t remember giving him the chocolates. You—“ Bitty looks at Dunn’s pale face and realizes something. Then he pales himself. “—you put her under the imperious spell.”

He can tell just by looking at Dunn that he’s still right. He doesn’t want to be, but he is. Kent tenses even further from where he’s been watching the exchange. He’s also faintly aware of someone’s presence approaching from behind him. It might be Jack, but he isn’t sure.

“You ordered her to give him the chocolate, and then watched under a disillusionment spell so it couldn’t be traced back to you. You tried to cover your tracks, but you were too much of a coward, or an idiot, and it backfired. You couldn’t get his attention. You couldn’t make him love you.”

“I couldn’t care less if he loved me.” Dunn scoffs. “I just didn’t want him to be able to resist me.”

Bitty recoils like the words physically hit him.

“You disgusting motherfu—“ He begins.

“Stupefy!” Kent says, before Bitty can finish his thought.

His gaze is steely, and he regards Dunn’s petrified form with disgust.

“Jack,” He says, looking over Bitty’s shoulder after a moment, “will you be a dear and help me get this scum out of here?”

“Gladly.” Jack responds, his tone icy and his face furious.


	8. Kent

Jack helps Kent haul Dunn to the headmistress’ office, Bitty fuming at their coattails every step of the way.

They explain the situation to the headmistress, who listens to everything with a stony expression of disapproval. It’s disapproval of Dunn, but it’s still kind of terrifying. 

McGonagall assures them that Dunn will be brought to justice. The poor girl he’d framed is summoned back to the school and pardoned from her previous expulsion, with promises to tutor her to get her caught back up.

McGonagall doesn’t seem entirely pleased that they used a stunning spell on Dunn, but given the circumstances, she lets it slide. Given the testimony of three different people to Dunn’s actions, along with the original suspect’s continued adamant insistence that she doesn’t remember anything, McGonagall calls aurors to visit, and doesn’t cast rennervate until they’re already standing over Dunn’s prone form.

When Dunn wakes up he doesn’t waste time falling out of the auror’s good graces, cursing and insisting that they’ll be hearing from his parents.

The intent of awakening him had been to give him a chance to defend himself, but he does such a shoddy job of it that McGonagall insists they get him out of her sight and question him elsewhere.

Kent doubts he’ll be able to think of a lie convincing enough to pull him out of the hole he dug.

As soon as they leave the office, Bitty turns to the exonerated girl, who looks dazedly happy, but also very tired.

“I’m sorry.” He says, and Kent stares. “I knew there was something fishy about the situation, I should have pushed harder to figure out what was going on before it got pinned on you.”

She looks like she’s on the verge of tears, but her reply is somewhat steady.

“It’s okay.” She says. “Even I didn’t have a clue what was going on. I still don’t really, everything from that day is kind of fuzzy.” 

She sighs.

“I’m just glad it’s over.”

Bitty looks sympathetic, but he doesn’t seem to know what else to say. So Kent butts in.

“Everyone’s been treating me like the victim, but what you went through was just as bad.” He thinks for a moment. “Worse actually. So if you ever wanna talk about it we can lament over Dunn’s creepiness together.”

“Thanks,” she says tiredly, “I might just take you up on that.”

They drop her off at the Ravenclaw dorms. Kent’s a bit worried about how everyone will take her coming back. News of the incident had spread fast, and despite the fact that he knows people had seen them dragging Dunn to the headmistress’ office, they don’t have the updated story yet.

She assures them that she has some close friends who believe in her innocence though. 

“They told me they were going to prove I was innocent.” She smiles. “But you beat them to the punch. They’ll back me up and help spread the story. I’ll be fine.”

Kent nods, glad he isn’t just leaving her to fend for herself, and says his goodbyes.

——  
After checking with Kent and Allison to make sure they’re okay with her sharing details, the headmistress holds a meeting in the great hall. She doesn’t name names, but it’s only a token gesture, everyone knows who was involved.

She reminds them all that casting unforgivables is a criminal offense, and assures them that Dunn will be spending time in Azkaban for his crimes.

“I hope you all realize how serious this situation is.” She says. “Now that I’ve clarified what happened, I expect gossip to be at a minimum and that you all leave the victims alone.”

She gives the hall a sharp, sweeping gaze, and ends her speech.

Of course, no one heeds her warning, but none of the people that approach him do much other than attempt to console him for his misfortune. Some people ask for details, but what he does provide gets spread enough that the questions peter out before long.

——-

Before he knows it, winter break is looming over his head. His main goal in life is to be a quidditch player, but Jack is always hounding him to get good grades, just in case that doesn’t pan out. 

He’s relieved for the break from school and studying, but he’s less excited about not seeing Bitty and Jack for two weeks.

Jack is going to be in Quebec with his family. They can always floo to visit, but they won’t be seeing each other nearly as much, and Jack is expected to spend time with his family. 

Bitty surprises him by proposing they spend time together before Kent can. 

“Now don’t go thinkin’ that you can slack off just because we’re on break. I’ll still be heading to the weight room every day, I expect y’all to join me once in a while.” He says sternly, the day before most everyone is set to head home. “My dad has his floo connected to his office, so if y’all floo over to my place we can go to Hogwarts from there.”

Normally the campus’s points of access are strictly regulated. But when professors opt to live off campus the school provides them with a way to access their office from their home, provided they prove their homes are adequately protected.

Jack makes a noncommittal noise.

“I’d love to, but I’m telling you now, I’m probably going to miss the first few days.” Jack admits. “My parents are going to be dragging me around places for at least the first week of break.”

“As soon as you’re available you floo me.” Bitty instructs, turning to Kent when Jack nods.

“I’ll be there,” Kent says, “just pick a time.”

——-

Kent regrets his acquiescence the moment Bitty says “8am” But he manages to negotiate down to ten.

The first few days are relatively uneventful. Jack, true to his word, is off gallivanting with his parents at a muggle ski resort, so he doesn’t have access to the floo. It’s just the two of them, and they take turns spotting each other before using equipment that doesn’t require a spot as much. 

They settle into a comfortable routine of idle chatter and mild flirtation, and Kent wonders if anything will come of it. Jack had given him permission to make a move if the opportunity arose, but he just can’t seem to find one that feels right. Their flirting is never serious enough.

Though, Kent will admit, it is a good sign that they are flirting. He just doesn’t know if Bitty really means it the way he does.

On the fifth day of break, their routine deviates. 

They show up at the tapestry, Bitty paces back and forth while concentrating, and a door appears. But the weight room isn’t behind it. Instead there’s a library.

They both stare at it in confusion.

“That’s new.” Bitty says.

“What happened?” Kent asks.

“I don’t know.”

They both stare a moment longer.

“Ough.” Kent says, after some deliberation. “I think Jack’s rubbing off on me.”

“Oh is he?” Bitty asks, smirking.

Kent snorts, but otherwise ignores the innuendo. “Yeah, he’s all anxious about the NEWTS, it kind of gives me second hand anxiety sometimes.”

Bitty considers the library for a moment. 

“Alright.” He says. “We could use a break day. I’ll pick out a book to read while you study.” 

He herds Kent in, who groans loudly at the idea.

“You want me to study?” 

“Apparently you’re the one who wanted to study.” Bitty says, already browsing the shelves. “I’m just here for moral support and a good fiction novel. Oh!” 

The last bit is startled, but not unpleasantly so.

“What?” Kent asks, walking towards him.

“It would seem the room has a recommendation for me.” Bitty responds, reading a book cover. “It popped out as soon as I said what I was looking for.”

He hums pleasantly, turning the book back over. “This does seem pretty good.” Then he looks back up to the room. “Do you have any NEWT study materials?” 

There are multiple clatters around the room, presumably the sound of books hitting the floor.

Bitty heads off in the direction of some of the clatters, and Kent sighs in resignation and heads towards the other side, weaving through the shelves to find the textbooks. His eye catches on an obviously muggle book as he’s bending over to pick one up. 501 Pick Up Lines Guaranteed to Work. He snorts, doubting the truth of the statement, but he takes the book on a whim regardless.

He finds two textbooks and meets Bitty at the comfortable armchairs. He’s already made himself comfortable, shoes off and reading the book. Kent squints to make out it’s title.

The Captive Prince. He’s very tempted to call Bitty out on that raunchy sounding title, but he weighs the pros and cons and realizes he would just be opening himself up to jabs from Bitty for having a dirty mind. The title isn’t even that scandalous.

“How’s the book?” He asks. 

“I’m not even done with the prologue.” Bitty says dryly. 

“Sometimes that’s enough to tell.”

“It is pretty good,” Bitty admits, “though for some reason there’s a voice that’s making it hard to concentrate.” 

He spares Kent a wry look, but the smile turning up the corners of his mouth says he isn’t really bothered.

“Read your textbooks.” Bitty orders. “You should probably start with the NEWT preparation guide. It seems succinct, if a bit out of date.”

He slides it over, and Kent examines it. It was published in 2001, but it seems blissfully short compared to the rest, so it’s probably a good starting point.

He sighs in resignation and flops into his seat to read. 

He toes off his shoes and curls up, trying to get comfortable. 

The only problem is concentration is not something he naturally possesses. He reads approximately three pages before his eyes begin to drift elsewhere. 

He can’t help it, the book is all lengthy, convoluted explanations of wand work and technique. Things better suited to being shown than written. 

Bitty, on the other hand, seems to find his book captivating, ironically enough. Kent sighs wistfully and checks his book’s index. He flips to the Wizarding history section and sighs in relief. At least this is better suited for reading.

Despite being marginally better than what he had been reading before, the Wizarding history section of the book is still kind of boring. Kent manages a good half hour or so before his eyes begin to wander again, so he decides to give himself a break. 

He sets the book down and stretches out in his chair. Bitty is still reading his book, and he obviously finds it very interesting, if the concentration on his face is any indication. It’s a nice look on him, and Kent can only hope that one day he’ll find that single minded focus lasering in on him.

But for the moment, Bitty is reading. Kent scrutinizes his face far past the acceptable limits of polite face gazing, but Bitty is too focused to care anyways. There’s this light flush coloring his cheeks, and Kent wonders if the book really is raunchy or if he’s just warm in his robes. It’s winter, but the library’s fireplace is magically lit and maintaining a flame, so it’s not exactly cold at the moment.

He shrugs out of his robe, leaving the button down from under it on. It’s getting a bit too warm for layers.

His eyes fall to the pick up line book. He considers it for a moment, then opens it. The first one immediately makes him snort, and he knows with utmost certainty that he made the right call picking the book up.

He flips through the book and dog ears the ones he likes the most. When he reaches the end he clears his throat.

“Hey Bitty. Do you have a bandaid?”

“You get a paper cut?” Bitty asks. “Just suck on it, you don’t need a band aid.”

Kent’s mind blanks out for a minute, because, hello oral fixation, does Bitty always suck on paper cuts? He reboots quickly enough though, and forces himself to infuse nonchalance into his voice.

“No, I just scraped my knee falling for you.”

Bitty looks up, clearly confused before his eyes settle on the book in Kent’s hand. He rolls them hard and goes back to reading his book. It’s clearly time to up the ante. Kent flips to the section of the book entitled “dirty pick up lines”.

“Are you a baker?” Kent asks. “Because I’d like to put a bun in your oven.”

Bitty snorts a bit, but doesn’t look up from his book.

“Is there a mirror in your pants? Because I think I can see myself in them.”

That one only earns him a minute shake of Bitty’s head.

Kent switches back to the clean pick up lines.

“Your hand looks pretty heavy.” Kent says. “Let me hold it for you.”

“I’d rather not read one handed.” Bitty responds casually.

Kent can’t fault him for that—and at least he’s listening. But he can’t help but remember the way he’d caught Bitty off guard while he was under the influence of the potion, the way he made him blush.

He wants to do it again, on purpose this time.

He chooses one that Bitty will have to engage with, hoping he’ll humor him. He knows if Bitty is actually looking at him he can lay the charm on thicker.

“Hey Bitty.” Kent gets up and stands over Bitty.

“Hmm?” Bitty doesn’t look up from his book, but he raises an eyebrow.

“Feel my shirt.” Kent kneels down on the floor for easy access and holds his arm out.

Bitty finally looks up, sighing a bit, but humoring him as he hoped he would. 

“Feel that?” Kent asks, making eye contact and smirking in the most charming manner he can muster. “That’s boyfriend material.”

Bitty considers the statement calmly for a moment, then his eyes fall back to the fabric. His hand unexpectedly slides up Kent’s arm and he hums in the back of his throat.

“No,” he says consideringly, his hand sliding further up to Kent’s shoulder, “I think that’s husband material.”

Kent blushes, suddenly feeling exposed now, on one knee in front of Bitty.

Bitty doesn’t remove his hand from Kent’s shoulder or break eye contact. That is, until his eyes slide obviously, unhurriedly down to Kent’s mouth. Which falls slack.

Kent licks his lips.

Bitty trails his hand further up to cup the side of Kent’s neck, and he leans in to the touch. 

Bitty leans in as well, towards Kent, his eyes hooded and his intent clear. Then he kisses him.

Kent’s mind fizzes to a stop. He makes a startled little noise into the kiss, even though he saw it coming, and he feels the corner of Bitty’s mouth tic up just a little. 

Kent kisses back as soon as his brain starts working again, lips sliding against Bitty’s in an uncomplicated but not necessarily chaste manner. After a moment, Bitty pulls back and breaks the kiss, smiling.

“What was that for?” Kent asks, somewhat breathless. 

Bitty shrugs. “It seemed like you wanted me to kiss you. Was I wrong?” 

His hand is still on the side of Kent’s neck. He’s smiling just a little bit, this thing at the corner of his mouth that means he knows full well he wasn’t wrong.

Kent is a little captivated. It’s kind of amazing how different Bitty has proven to be from the boy he saw at the sorting ceremony. He’s not shy or uncertain, he’s cocksure and charming.

Kent dazedly shakes his head no and Bitty smiles wider, leaning in for another kiss. Kent opens his mouth pliantly into the kiss, just following Bitty’s lead before he remembers that he knows how to kiss, and slides his tongue into Bitty’s mouth. Bitty sucks on it and Kent’s mouth falls open on a moan. He feels a zing of arousal at the base of his spine. 

Bitty sucks a bit harder, sliding off Kent’s tongue with a little pop. 

He sits back in the chair a little, and Kent drops his other knee down to the floor and sits back on his heels. Bitty is a little flushed now, just like Kent is sure he is.

“Is it hot in here?” Kent asks. 

“It’s warm.” Bitty responds.

“You should take your robe off.” Kent says slyly, smirking and loosening his tie.

“Wonderful idea.” Bitty replies, smirking right back and shrugging out of his robe. 

He leans over and tugs Kent up from his heels back to his knees by his loosened tie and kisses him again. It’s short and sweet and when it’s over he leans back to look Kent in the eye again. He’s still holding Kent’s tie, and he tugs it just a little.

“You should join me up here.” He suggests. “This couch is very comfortable.”

Kent smiles coyly up at Bitty and grabs the arms of the chair, leveraging himself up and into Bitty’s lap. Suddenly he’s the one that has to bend over, as Bitty pulls him in for a kiss by his tie again.

He adjusts to rest his weight more fully on Bitty’s lap and groans at the hardness he feels against his thigh. When they pull apart this time, they don’t go too far, resting their foreheads together as they catch their breath.

Kent grinds down against Bitty’s erection, and he throws his head back against the couch.

“God.” He exclaims, before adjusting so he can press his thigh up against Kent’s own hardness. Kent fully agrees.

“Fuck.” Kent says, riding Bitty’s knee. He’s staring intently up at him, his gaze laser focused as he undoes Kent’s tie and unbuttons his shirt, tossing both to the side.

“You look so good darlin’.” Bitty purrs, pushing his thigh up harder as he pinches Kent’s nipple.

He bites back a moan on instinct and Bitty cups the side of his neck again, pulling him in for another kiss. He sucks his tongue into his mouth again at the same time as he pushes Kent down by his hips onto his thigh.

Kent can’t stop the little whine that escapes him this time, and Bitty’s hands grip harder on his hips. He trails kisses down to Kent’s neck, and he bares his neck to give him full access, feeling as Bitty sucks what is sure to be a massive hickey onto his neck.

He can feel himself getting close, and he stops thinking about anything but the way Bitty’s mouth feels against his neck, his fingers pinching his nipples, about grinding himself against Bitty’s thigh until he comes, shuddering and panting, digging his nails into Bitty’s shoulder.

Bitty sits back and watches him, an awed expression on his face.

“Did you just?...” he trails off.

Suddenly Kent remembers to be embarrassed. He flushes bright red and opens his mouth to say something, but BItty finishes before he can start.

“That was so hot.”

Kent’s mouth closes with a click, and he blushes harder.

Bitty reaches down to grab the button of his slacks, and Kent bites his lip.

“Can I see?” Bitty asks.

Kent just nods a bit dumbly, unsure what Bitty’s going for. Bitty unzips his pants and pulls his underwear down. Kent’s cock springs free, still erect, but softer now that he’s come. It’s slick with his cum, and Bitty grabs him at the root and strokes up, taking some of the come with him.

“Fuck!” Kent exclaims, hunching over at the wave of sensation and shivering all over. “Oh my god.”

“Does it hurt?” Bitty asks, unhanding his dick and bringing his hand up and away.

“No.” Kent says. “It’s just a lot.”

“Bad a lot?” Bitty asks.

“I… I don’t think so.” Kent says, uncertain.

“Well how about this?” Bitty proposes, bringing his sullied hand up to Kent’s face, touching his bottom lip with his thumb, but refraining from smearing come on his cheek. “You tell me if it’s too much and i’ll stop.”

Kent nods in agreement and Bitty slides the thumb into his mouth. Kent sucks on it automatically, tasting himself on Bitty’s skin.

Bitty stares at him hungrily, and after a moment Kent remembers that he hasn’t come yet.

He lets the thumb fall from his mouth.

“You should fuck me.” 

“But we don’t—” Bitty says, likely to lament the lack of lube. Before he can finish, though, the room around them contorts, and Bitty is falling back onto the bed they’re suddenly on with a startled noise, his back rest vanished.

He turns his head to find lubricant and condoms resting at eye level.

There’s a beat of silence.

“This room is my favorite room in the world.” Bitty says earnestly. “I want to live here.”

Kent snorts a laugh and lets his head fall to Bitty’s shoulder.

“Are you sure about this?” Bitty asks.

“I was sure before we had lube.” Kent says. “I’m very sure now.”

Bitty grins and flips him over into his back, grabbing his pants and underwear by the top, and Kent lifts his hips obligingly so he can pull them off.

He lays naked under Bitty’s gaze and realizes that he’s still almost fully clothed. The only thing he’s removed are his robes and shoes. 

Bitty grabs his slowly flagging cock and strokes. Kent’s toes curl as he resists the urge to thrash. Bitty begins to set a slow but steady pace, and Kent turns his head violently, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Bitty holds him down with a forearm over his chest, unrelenting in his pace, watching Kent’s face intently. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and moans, feeling himself hardening again, before he even had a chance to fully soften. It’s a little torturous. It makes him want to squirm and kick and lash out, and the fact that he’s restraining himself from doing so makes it worse. He doesn’t want to hit Bitty though, so he holds himself somewhat still, aside from the way he spreads his legs and draws one up and back down again, twisting his hands into the sheets.

“Stop, stop.” He pants out after about a minute, sweat already rolling down his chest. “I still want you to fuck me.”

“Oh, right.” Bitty says. “I was having so much fun making you squirm I almost forgot.”

“Fuck.” Kent spits out, watching as Bitty reaches over to grab the lube, tugging his tie off and discarding it with the other hand.

“Language.” Bitty teases. “Now roll over and get on your knees so I can finger you.”

“Why can’t we do it like this?” Kent asks.

“I read that that position makes anal easier.” Bitty says. “I don’t want this to hurt at all.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo.” Kent shrugs. “This position works just fine, trust me.”

Bitty gets this glint in his eye, and Kent has no clue what he’s thinking, but that look makes him feel like melting.

“Alright.” Bitty says, rolling his shirtsleeves up. He grabs a pillow and Kent lifts his hips so he can slide it under. 

“You ready?” He asks, squeezing lube out onto his fingers.

“Yes.” Kent says. It feels hoarse and wrung out.

Bitty smiles knowingly at the tone and slings one of Kent’s legs over his shoulder. He gently circles Kent’s hole with his finger before pressing in. Kent moans at the sensation.

He’s done this before, with Jack. But they don’t often get the chance to do this, given the dorms. Besides, he and Jack both like to bottom, so even when they do have the opportunity, he’s not always the one bottoming. He might not be as experienced as his words led Bitty to believe.

But he can take it, one finger isn’t a lot, he’s just sensitive, his overstimulation adding a new layer to the sensation.

“Is this alright?” Bitty asks, his voice low and reverent, his finger crooked, searching for Kent’s prostate.

“Yes.” Kent moans. “It’s good. Another.”

“So bossy.” Bitty teases, smiling. He slides another finger in next to the first, and pushes them both deeper. His middle finger is longer and he’s able to reach Kent’s prostate now, which he presses down on firmly.

“Fuck.” Kent sobs. “Oh my god.”

“Is that good?” Bitty asks.

“Another.” Kent says, pushing his hips down onto Bitty’s fingers. He just wants to take Bitty’s dick as soon as possible, but he knows with Jack he always needs three fingers before he’s ready.

Bitty stops to reapply lube before obligingly adding a third finger.

Kent’s dick twitches against his stomach as Bitty grinds up into his prostate again.

“Fuck.” Kent says. “Okay, can you just stretch me? I want to come on your cock, not your fingers.”

Bitty spreads his fingers, obligingly avoiding his prostate, and Kent moans at the stretch.

“I’m ready.” He says. “Just fuck me Bits.”

Bitty stills for a moment, scrutinizing his fingers. 

“I should probably do one more.” He says, adding his pinky finger.

“Oh my god.” Kent says. “Bitty—“

He bites his lip then, stifling what was sure to turn into an incoherent babble. 

“You’re doing so good for me.” Bitty says, leaning down to whisper in Kent’s ear. He shudders at the feeling of his breath on his neck. Bitty sucks another hickey under his jaw at the same time as he spreads his fingers out to stretch Kent, and he swears viciously.

Bitty’s fingers come against his prostate again, just a teasing brush, but it still has Kent turning his head away to bite down on his arm.

Bitty withdraws his fingers and unzips his pants with his clean hand.

Kent groans when he sees Bitty’s cock.

“You’re big.” He says, his brain to mouth filter shot to hell. Bitty isn’t inordinately long, probably about six inches or so. But his cock is thick, more so than Jack’s and his own, enough that Kent knows there’d still be a decent amount left if he tried to fit his hand around it.

Bitty shoots him a sheepish smile.

“Are you still sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.” Kent responds, without hesitation.

That earns him a more genuine smile.

“Good.” Bitty says. He picks up the condom from besides Kent and scrutinizes it dubiously for a second. It disappears and is replaced with a larger one just as quickly. Bitty sighs in relief, then opens it and rolls it on.

“You sure you don’t want to roll over?” He asks.

Kent gives Bitty’s cock a considering look.

“Good point.” He says, and rolls onto his hands and knees. 

He hears fabric rustling behind him, and when he glances over Bitty is throwing his pants to the side and unbuttoning his shirt.

“You ready darlin’?” Bitty asks, grabbing his hip.

“Yeah.” Kent breathes.

“Good.” Then Bitty lines himself up and slides in.

It burns a bit, four fingers aren’t the same as the real thing, but it’s not bad, just overwhelming. Kent bows his head and lets out a deep breath, forcing himself to relax.

“You good, honey?” Bitty asks.

“Yes.” Kent whines. “Just fuck me.”

“If you say so.” Bitty grabs both his hips in his hands and begins to experimentally thrust. He pauses for a moment, and Kent can feel him shifting on his knees.

“You tell me if I do something you don’t like.” Bitty orders.

“Yeah.” Kent says, focused on the sensation of Bitty’s cock spreading him wide open, but curious as to what he has in mind.

Then Bitty pushes Kent down into the mattress, so he’s laying flat on his stomach, save for the pillow still under him propping his hips up. He grabs both his asscheeks and holds him open, fucking in and down in a way that grinds his cock over Kent’s prostate. 

Kent brings his forearm around and bites down, oversensitive and overstimulated, making these embarrassing little whiny noises. He doesn’t know wether to fuck back into Bitty or forward into the pillow. He can feel his orgasm building, even with the inconsistent stimulation the pillow is giving him.

Then Bitty fucks him harder and he moans, releasing his abused forearm and reaching down to palm his dick. 

Bitty swats his asscheek at that, and he yelps in surprise.

“Don’t.” Bitty says. “Keep your hands above you. I want to see if you can come between me and the pillow.” 

“Fuck.” Kent swears. But he moves his hand back above him.

“Good boy.” Bitty praises, then leans down to bite the juncture between Kent’s neck and shoulder, hands a bruising force on his hips.

“Fuuuuck.” Kent moans, and comes all over the pillow, shuddering with the force of it.

Bitty just fucks him through it, panting against his neck in a way that sends a shiver down his spine and murmuring some half formed praises into his ear.

Then he digs his nails into Kent’s hips and stills, coming with a choked little moan of his name.

He rolls off after a moment and neatly disapparates the condom and wrapper.

“That was…” Kent begins, but he doesn’t even know where to start.

“Wonderful.” Bitty finishes helpfully.

“Yes.” Kent confirms. “It really was.”

There’s only a week left of winter break, but Kent is sure it will be a good one.


	9. Jack

In terms of feelings for Bitty, Jack has caught up to Kent. When he saw Bitty tear Dunn apart for what he did to Kent, he knew he was gone.

All it took, really, was knowing that Bitty is someone who cares for Kent, who’s willing to protect him and help him. A shared sense of loyalty and affection.

Not to mention the fact that Jack has never really seen Bitty lose his composure that badly. It’s clear he cares for Kent deeply, just like Kent cares for him.

Jack can only hope that he can care for him as well.

He missed the two of them during his ski trip, so he’s sure to floo Kent as soon as he gets home.

Kent answers immediately, demanding that Jack come through to visit. So Jack quickly lets his parents know where he’s going and hops through.

“I’m home alone.” Kent says immediately. 

Jack expects that to be preceded by Kent attaching himself to his neck like a particularly determined leech, but he continues talking instead.

“Bitty made a move on me yesterday.” Kent says, clearly excited. “I’m so glad you told me it was okay.”

“Oh?” Jack asks. “How was it.”

“It was amazing.” Kent gushes. “Apparently my refractory period is way shorter than I thought, because he cut it down to like, two minutes. Then he fucked me into a mattress. His dick is fucking huge by the way.”

Jack blinks at the onslaught of information. 

“Okay well, it wasn’t like, unmanageably huge, but it was like, beer bottle thick. It felt great.”

Jack swallows at the mental image, a little jealous that he missed it despite himself.

“I would have liked to have seen that.” He says, his voice husky.

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” Kent teases.

“So how did he take it?” Jack asks.

“I’m the one that took it, I just told you that.”

“No,” Jack laughs, “I mean how did he take, you know.” He gestures between them.

Kent seems confused for a moment. Then his expression clears, and his eyes widen.

“Oh shit!” Kent exclaims, clapping a hand over his mouth, 

There’s a beat of silence as Kent holds the hand there in shock.

“You forgot to tell him, didn’t you.” Jack sighs.

Kent winces.

“In my defence, He was very distracting.”

“Everything is distracting to you.” Jack laughs.

“I don’t know how I forgot!” Kent says, hitting his forehead. “I took care of getting your permission prior and I guess I just forgot that Bitty doesn’t know.”

Kent runs a hand through his hair.

“Shit.” He sighs. “We have to find a way to tell him.”

“Don't you usually floo over to his place in the morning?” Jack asks.

“Yeah.” Kent confirms. “We hooked up yesterday, today was just weirdly erotically charged weight lifting with a side of make outs.”

Jack snorts, feeling the beginnings of anxiety starting up, but refusing to show it. “Well tomorrow morning I’ll come too, we can tell him together.”

“Okay.” Kent says. “Sounds good.”

——-

In the morning when Jack heads through the floo into Bitty’s house he seems happy to see him.

“Hi Jack!” He says, leaning in for a friendly hug. “How was your trip?”

“It was good.” Jack responds, returning the hug.

“Great.” Bitty says. “I missed you. Are you working out with us today?”

“I missed you too Bits.” Jack responds, after a moment trying to hold his blushing at the sentiment in check. “And yeah, I’m working out with you.”

“Awesome.” Bitty responds, smiling. “I’ll head out first so you can see what to call out for my dad’s office.”

He watches as Bitty steps through the floo, calling out his destination and throwing the powder to the floor.

Kent grins at him from the threshold of the fireplace.

“He missed you.” He sing songs, laughing at Jack before stepping through.

“Shut it.” Jack mumbles.

He steps into the floo after Kent and exits into Coach’s office. It’s sparsely decorated, with a fireplace, desk, broomsticks and photos, but not much else.

Bitty looks back to check that they’re following and heads out the door. 

“C’mon.” He says. “My dad’s office is a couple floors down from the weight room.”

Kent shoots a nervous look at Jack, and Jack knows exactly what he’s thinking about, he’s thinking about it too. Jack just kind of inclines his head in Bitty’s direction.

Kent makes an exasperated face at him and nearly missed the first step of the staircase. He stumbles and Bitty looks back at him,

“You okay?” He asks.

“Just peachy.” Kent says, his voice a bit tense.

Bitty gives him a strange look, but turns around to continue walking up the stairs after a second.

Kent looks back to Jack. He just shakes his head at him and Kent turns around with a huff.

When they reach the top of the steps on the seventh floor Kent does a little half jog to catch up to Bitty and tugs on the sleeve of his robe.

“Hey.” He says, gesturing to all three of them. “We need to talk.”

“What is it?” Bitty asks, slowing down but continuing forward, seeming concerned but not necessarily surprised.

Kent sighs.

“Jack and I are dating.”

There’s a beat of silence and Jack scrutinizes Bitty’s expression. He still doesn’t seem surprised.

“I know.” Bitty says, finally coming to a stop in front of the tapestry.

“What?” Kent asks, incredulous. “How?”

Personally, Jack thinks they’ve never been wholly subtle, but they have kept everything overtly coupley under wraps, so it’s reasonable for Kent to be surprised. Hell, he is too. Especially considering Bitty was still willing to sleep with Kent.

“I’ve suspected for months now.” Bitty says. “When you’re a gay boy that grows up with no gay friends and very limited exposure to anything LGBT related, you tend to fine tune yourself to any potentially homoerotic details. There’s just something in the way you look at each other sometimes.”

Kent nods knowingly at that.

Bitty clears his throat, blushing.

“Erm.” He begins. “But, the way I really knew you guys were together was that I overheard you talking. About me.”

He lets them fill in the blanks.

“Oh.” Jack says.

“So I knew it was okay to make a move on Kent. I just kind of forgot to bring it up? We got caught up and then fell asleep after and I had to rush home, and we just never really said anything.”

He scratches his head.

“Well… nothing about your relationship.”

Jack huffs a little laugh at that.

“I heard…” Bitty begins, faltering a bit. “I heard that you like me, but not like that. But…” he visibly steels himself. “I like you both. If you’d be willing, I’d like to take you on a date sometime, maybe you’ll come to like me as well?”

Jack honestly can’t believe his luck, he grabs a handful of his sleeve in his palm and twists a bit, full of nervous energy. Before he can respond to Bitty’s proposal, though, Kent speaks up.

“Hey!” He says. “How come Jack gets a date, but I just get forced to study?”

“You’re invited too.” Bitty says, amused. “And you know I didn’t plan any of that.”

“I’d love to.” Jack says, before Kent can say anything else.

He wants to be more open with himself, like Kent is sometimes. He figures now is as good a time to start, so he might as well tell Bitty what he really thinks of him.

“You…” Jack takes a deep breath, nervous at what he’s about to say. “You’re loyal, and kind, and you obviously care a lot about Kent. I trust you to take care of him when I can’t, just like I know he’ll take care of you. First I saw how happy you made him, and I was fine with you doing that without me. But then I saw how passionate you got when you were defending him—it was amazing. I could only be so lucky to be around you as often as possible, to catch more moments like that.”

He stops speaking then, feeling embarrassed and exposed. 

Bitty stares for a moment, then strides forward, catching his face in his hands and kissing him soundly. He can hear Kent gasping to the side, but he knows he’s living for the drama. 

Jack smiles into the kiss, but neither he nor Bitty breaks it. It’s long and slow and kind of perfect.

He hears a door click behind them and breaks the kiss to look over.

Kent is standing in the threshold of the room. Instead of weights, it contains a king sized bed flanked by two nightstands, and not much else.

Jack turns to look at Bitty. He’s blushing. Jack turns back to Kent.

“Is this where you…?”

“Yup.” Kent responds, a little flushed himself. “I figure we can get that date later.”

Jack turns to Bitty, who seems to be at a bit of a loss.

“Do you have something in mind?” He asks. “I was floundering enough when it was just us. I don’t have the foggiest what to do with three people.”

“You didn’t seem like you were floundering at the time.” Kent quips good naturedly.

“I mostly kept it under wraps.” Bitty smiles.

“Well,” Kent says, walking towards the bed, “I was telling Jack about how you fucked me earlier and he said he would have liked to see it. Maybe we could start from there?” Kent grins.

“Is that right?” Bitty asks, following Kent.

Jack follows Bitty, and nods his assent at the question. Bitty contemplates for a second.

“Well,” he finally decides, “if you’re watching us I want you to commit to watching. No touching us, no touching yourself. Just watching. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Jack tenses up in surprise. He can already feel himself starting to harden at Bitty’s words. He nods jerkily in assent and makes eye contact across the room with Kent. He looks just as flushed as Jack surely must be.

“Is he...is he always like this?” Jack asks, mind already stalling too much for a fluid sentence.

“From what I’ve seen, yes.” Kent responds. “Hot as hell, isn’t it?”

Jack just nods silent assent, and Bitty smiles, obviously a bit relieved at the approval.

“Take your clothes off and sit in the chair.” Bitty orders, pointing to an armchair that definitely wasn’t there a moment ago. “I want to see all of your reactions.” His eyes slide pointedly down to Jack’s dick, and he gets the picture pretty well.

Bitty turns to close the door, and Jack starts taking his clothes off as he walks over to the chair, folding his clothes and setting them down on the floor. He sits down awkwardly then, already hard and unsure what to do with his hands, other than refrain from touching his cock.

Bitty has already taken off his robe and tie, and nods in approval at Jack before turning to Kent. He’s also fully naked, has uncaringly thrown his clothes over the bed, and is now laying seductively on top of it.

“Eager.” Bitty says, not disapprovingly.

Kent just waves the lube at him in response.

Bitty climbs onto the bed and grabs it, playfully smacking Kent’s ass as he turns onto his hands and knees.

“Don’t chicken out on me.” Kent challenges. “Do it again.”

“Bossy.” Bitty says. The tone he uses makes Jack think he’s referencing something.

He obligingly smacks Kent ass again, and Kent moans a little.

Jack edges forward in his chair to get a better look, and his knees bump against the bed. He could reach out and touch them if he wanted, but Bitty told him not to.

“Do you like it when it hurts?” Bitty asks Kent.

“Just when it hurts a little bit.” Kent says.

“Alright.” Bitty responds. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

Kent nods, clearly already looking forward to whatever is coming.

“Turn on your side so Jack can see you.” Bitty orders.

Kent turns over and Jack gets a full view of his heaving chest, peaked nipples, and now fully erect cock. His hands twitch in the armrests, but he refuses to touch himself.

Bitty sidles up behind him and drags his nails down Kent’s chest, leaving pink lines in his wake. Kent’s body tenses up and he jerks his head to the side.

“Bits.” He moans. “Oh my god.”

“I’m barely scratchin’” Bitty teases. “You’re so sensitive. Can I go again?”

“Yes.” Kent affirms enthusiastically.

Bitty takes his nails down his chest again, and this time Jack can see one of them drag over a nipple. Kent squirms under the touch, and the red lines are more defined this time, Bitty must be scratching harder.

Bitty grabs the base of Kent’s dick at the same time as he bites into the meat of Kent’s shoulder.

“Fuck!” Kent moans, trying to buck into Bitty’s hand.

Jack desperately wants to touch, but he keeps his hands on the armrests, clenched as they are.

“You’re doing so well baby.” Bitty coos. “Do you want me to finger you now, or hurt you a little more?”

Kent doesn’t answer, clearly unable to decide.

“Roll onto your stomach.” Bitty says, when it’s clear Kent won’t answer.

Kent complies quickly and easily.

“Good boy.” Bitty says, slapping Kent’s ass hard enough to leave a nice pink handprint and set him moaning into the pillow. He picks the lube back up, apparently satisfied with Kent’s dishevelment. He drizzles it on his fingers, and Jack leans to get a better view as he circles Kent’s rim.

“Start with two.” Kent says. 

Bitty nods. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

Jack can see Kent’s shoulders relaxing, he must be making himself relax to take Bitty in. He kind of wants to touch him, just to stroke his hair while he takes Bitty’s fingers. But Jack likes how Bitty is running things so far, he doesn’t want it to stop. He fists his hands harder into the armrest fabric.

Bitty works two of his fingers into Kent, who wiggles his hips minutely at the sensation, fists bunching in the sheets in a mirror of Jack’s.

Bitty’s eyes fall on Jack, his expression gaining an extra level of intensity at whatever he sees.

He scissors his fingers inside Kent, and then adds a third. Kent moans, grinding his hips into the pillow under him.

Bitty leans down to Kent’s ear, but he’s speaking loudly enough for Jack to hear.

“It looks like Jack is having a hard time keeping his hands to himself watching you.” Bitty says, eyes raking down Kent’s body. “I can’t fault him, not with how gorgeous you look right now, taking my fingers so well.”

Kent’s hand twitches down over his side like he wants to bring it to his cock, but he returns it to clench in the pillow by his face.

“Good.” Bitty praises. “Now do you think we should put Jack out of his misery and let him touch, or should we leave him be a while longer?”

Kent groans, muffled into the pillow, then responds.

“Let him touch me Bitty.”

Bitty turns to Jack.

“You heard him.”

Jack is out of the chair and on the bed embarrassingly quickly. He runs his hands through Kent’s hair and pulls a bit until his face isn’t buried in his pillow anymore.

“I want to hear you.” He says.

Kent just moans. Jack doesn’t doubt Bitty is grinding his fingers into his prostate. But when Jack curiously looks away from Kent’s face and towards what Bitty is doing to his ass, he sees that Bitty is inserting a fourth finger. He’s suddenly reminded of what Kent had said about Bitty being big. Jack’s eyes fall to Bitty’s crotch, but his pants are still on, and though the bulge seems pretty sizeable, it isn’t really a good indicator.

When he looks back up, Bitty is meeting his gaze. He smirks knowingly. Jack flushes, feeling caught.

“Lemme suck you off.” Kent demands, and Jack’s focus snaps back down to him. “Wanna see if I can take you both at one.”

Jack nods obligingly, but instinctively looks to Bitty for permission. He just gives an amused look and inclines his head. Jack takes that as assent and scoots himself into a position where Kent can easily take him into his mouth.

Kent grabs the base of his cock and takes the head into his mouth, pumping the rest of it slowly in build up. Jack bites his lip, already aroused from the show and feeling dangerously close to the edge already.

After a moment of this, Kent unexpectedly drops his head down to Jack’s thigh and pants into the crook of his hip for a second. Jack looks up to find that Bitty has kicked off all his clothes and is easing his cock into Kent.

Kent was right, he does have a pretty big dick. Jack wonders how it would feel to be in Kent’s place, and Kent can obviously feel the twitch Jack’s cock gives in his hand at that, if the laugh he huffs into his thigh is any indication.

Bitty slides all the way home, and Kent bites Jack’s thigh hard. Jack pulls his hair, the first thing he can get his hands on in his surprise, but he knows it isn’t a deterrent for Kent. Not that he’s trying all too hard to deter him.

“You alright there darlin’?” Bitty asks, his voice noticeably more husky than before. Jack isn’t entirely sure who the question is directed at, but both he and Kent nod.

“Good. Y’all are both doin’ so well.” Bitty says, beginning to thrust.

Kent shudders under him and rocks with the thrusts, hand still around Jack’s cock, but unmoving. After a beat he gets his elbows back under him and takes Jack back into his mouth, the movement of Bitty’s thrusts doing most of the work for him.

It’s not the most skillful blowjob he’s ever received from Kent, distracted as he is it’s more sloppy enthusiasm than anything. But the show more than makes up for it. Jack fists his hand in Kent’s hair, not really tight enough to hurt, but enough that when Bitty’s thrusts push him forward, his hair gets pulled.

Kent moans around his dick, and Jack lets out a harsh huff of air, feeling his orgasm building already. 

“‘M gonna come.” He says, ineloquently.

Kent obviously gets the message nonetheless, because he pulls his face back but keeps his tongue flat on the underside of Jack’s cock, stroking him in time with Bitty’s thrusts. Kent looks up to make eye contact then, and Jack is gone. He comes in messy spurts at the sight. Kent closes his mouth and swallows what landed inside, letting the rest of it paint his face. The sight of Kent getting fucked with Jack’s come all over his face is enough to draw Jack’s orgasm out longer than it normally lasts, and when he flops back onto the pillow behind him he feels incredibly sated.

Kent drops his head back down into Jack’s lap, and bites his thigh again, in a different spot this time, groaning loudly.

Jack’s thigh twitches, but he bites back the yelp he wants to release.

“You can touch yourself.” Bitty pants out.

Kent eagerly reaches around to fist a hand around his dick, propping himself up on his other forearm, but letting his head hang down. He strokes himself furiously, Bitty lavishing him with disjointed praises all the while. His body shakes, and Jack knows he’s coming before he feels the come spattering onto his shin.

Kent collapses back onto Jack’s lap, and Bitty fucks him harder, obviously chasing his own orgasm as Kent rides through the aftershocks.

“You feel so good darlin’.” He says, and then moans, his hips stilling as his hands force Kent’s hips back against them, grinding down. Kent’s nails scrape against Jack’s outer thigh at what is obviously direct stimulation to his prostate, but the noise he makes is more of a hitched sigh than anything.

There’s a moment where it’s just the three of them, breathing harshly into the air. Then Bitty pulls out, and Kent makes another one of those little noises, and Jack gets to actually see his whole cock for the first time. It’s nice, he thinks deliriously.

One day, he’ll try it out himself. But for now, they’re all sated, and all Jack wants to do is cuddle and stroke Kent’s hair, and tell them both how much he enjoyed himself.

For now, that’s all he needs.  
——-

~~4 years later~~

In their final year of Hogwarts, Slytherin wins the house cup. It’s thanks in large part to Bitty, who is an amazing seeker, but Kent and Jack’s contributions are nothing to sneeze at. When they graduate, they’re able to find a team with two open chaser positions willing to take them both on.

It’s honestly a dream come true, playing professionally side by side with Kent. It helped their case that their teamwork is well documented, one of the recruiters had watched them play together at one of their games and had been very impressed with their synchronicity.

In the year following, they managed to attend every single Slytherin game, cheering Bitty on rancorously from the rafters. They attracted quite a bit of attention, given that they were now minor celebrities, but most people recognized them from last year, so it was never a problem.

Bitty was, predictably, appointed captain in his seventh year. He lead Slytherin to another house cup victory with a calm confidence that was very well earned. And if all three of them disappear after that victory, well, everyone is too busy either celebrating or mourning to notice that there’s a new door in the seventh floor hallway.

Along with that victory, Bitty breaks multiple hogwarts records for seekers. Six consecutive snitches caught, technically a perfect record, which beat the previous of four. He also breaks the record for fastest snitch catch, at sixty seven seconds.

He’s not perfect, he’s taken much longer to catch snitches before, but with a track record like his, he’s given his pick at any quidditch team he’d like to join.

For some reason he decided to join theirs.

Three years later, and all three of them have solid contracts. Bitty is unfireable, well on his way to becoming one of the fastest seekers in the world, and he’s made it very clear that he’s on this team for two reasons. Both of which are madly in love with him.

Their team doesn’t fully understand, but the way Jack sees it, they practically make up half the team anyways, so it doesn’t really matter.

They’re stable, as close as they can possibly get to untouchable. It’s time to stop hiding.

Jack stands in the doorway of his new house, watching his boyfriends unpack kitchen utensils, and smiles to himself before going to help. They spent three years flooing from apartment to apartment, so much that they had effectively lived together already. But this is different. It feels official. 

A space too big for just the three of them, with a huge kitchen for Bitty, and their bedroom, and two extra rooms. They’ve talked about it, and Jack knows that one day those rooms will be occupied. 

But for today, they finally have a house together, a place where they can be open, a promise for the future.

It’s huge, and it should be so, so frightening. But for once in his life, Jack isn’t anxious at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also Ransom and Holster join a rival team and end up stealing their thunder a little bit by coming out first. Not that they can top gay AND poly, but they still brag about beating them to the punch whenever possible.


End file.
